UC-NRLF 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 


BEQUEST  OF 

Alice  R.  Hilgard 


THE  MODERN  STUDENT'S  LIBRARY 

EDITED   BY 

WILL  D,  HOWE 

PBOFE880B  OF  ENGLISH   AT  INDIANA   UNIVERSITY 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 


THE     MODERN     STUDENT'S     LIBRARY 

PUBLISHED    BY   CHARLES   SCRIBNER'S    SONS 


THE    ORDEAL    OF    RICHARD   FEVEREL 

By   George   Meredith. 
THE   HISTORY  OF   PENDENNIS. 

By   William   Makepeace   Thackeray. 
THE   RETURN   OF  THE   NATIVE. 

By^Thomas   Hardy. 
BOSWELL'.S   LIFE  OF  JOHNSON. 
ADAM   BEDE. 

By   George   Eliot. 

ENGLISH  POETS  OF  THE  EIGHTEENTH 
.   CENTURY. 
THE  RING  AND  THE  BOOK. 

By   Robert    Browning. 
PAST  AND   PRESENT. 

By  Thomas  Carlyle. 
PRIDE   AND    PREJUDICE. 

By  Jane  Austen. 
THE  HEART  OF  MID-LOTHIAN. 

By   Sir   Walter   Scott. 
THE   SCARLET   LETTER. 

By   Nathaniel   Hawthorne. 
BUNYAN'S    PILGRIM'S   PROGRESS. 
THE  ESSAYS  OF  ROBERT  LOUIS  STEVEN- 

SON. 

NINETEENTH    CENTURY    LETTERS. 
THE    ESSAYS    OF   ADDISON   AND   STEELE. 
Each  small  12mo.     75  cents  net. 

Other  volumes  in  preparation. 


THE  MODERN  STUDENT'S  LIBRARY 


THE 
PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

FROM    THIS    WORLD    TO    THAT    WHICH 
IS  TO  COME 

BY 

JOHN    BTJNYAN 


WITH    AN    INTRODUCTION 
BY 

SAMUEL  McCHORD   CROTHERS 


CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 

NEW  YORK  CHICAGO  BOSTON 


COPYRIGHT,  1918,  BY 
CHARLES  SCRIBNER'S  SONS 


Add'] 


GIFT 


INTRODUCTION 

William  Blake's  question  in  regard  to  the  tiger, 
"Did  He  who  made  the  lamb  make  thee?" 

occurs  to  one  who  attempts  to  read  all  the  works  of  John 
Bunyan.  Did  he  who  wrote  "Solomon's  Temple  Spiritual- 
ized," "The  Life  and  Death  of  Mr.  Badman,"  and  "Sighs 
from  Hell,  or  the  Groans  of  a  Damned  Soul,"  or  even  "The 
Holy  War,"  write  also  "The  Pilgrim's  Progress"? 

Truth  to  tell,  most  of  Bunyan's  works  have  the  usual  char- 
acteristic of  allegorical  writing.  They  are  dull.  The  writer 
seizes  upon  an  obvious  analogy  and  then  draws  it  out  into  an 
endless  homily.  In  his  introduction  to  "Solomon's  Temple 
Spiritualized"  the  author  frankly  tells  the  Christian  Reader 
what  he  is  to  expect.  He  intends  to  make  a  thorough  job 
of  the  spiritualization,  and  to  leave  no  part  of  the  sacred 
edifice  or  the  surrounding  country  without  its  appropriate 
moral.  "I  may  say  that  God  did  in  a  manner  tie  up  the 
church  of  the  Jews  to  types,  figures,  and  similitudes,  I  mean 
to  be  butted  and  bounded  by  them  in  all  external  parts  of 
worship.  Yea,  not  only  the  levitical  law  and  temple,  but  as 
it  seems  to  me  the  whole  land  of  Canaan,  the  place  of  their 
lot  to  dwell  in,  was  to  them  a  ceremonial  or  a  figure." 

When  a  conscientious  allegorist  takes  his  business  so  seri- 
ously, we  may  expect  him  to  go  far.  Bunyan  goes  to  the 
bitter  end.  Every  nook  and  cranny  of  the  temple  is  exam- 
ined by  this  spiritual  detective  whose  eyes  are  keen  for  hid- 
den meanings.  The  doors  of  the  temple  are  folding  doors, 
so  that  even  a  "tun-bellied  sinner"  may  pass  through  them. 
"The  hinges  on  which  these  doors  do  hang  were,  as  I  told 


vi  INTRODUCTION 

you,  gold  to  signify  that  they  turn  upon  motives  and  mo- 
tions of  love."  The  door-posts  were  "of  the  olive-tree,  that 
fat  and  oily  tree,  to  show  that  they  never  open  with  loathness 
or  sluggishness."  The  doors  were  made  of  fir.  Now,  fir  is 
the  type  of  five  different  things,  each  of  which  is  set  down 
with  the  appropriate  scriptural  proof -texts. 

How  did  this  painful  allegorist  come  to  write  one  of  the 
most  vivid  and  entertaining  books  in  our  language?  Bun- 
yan  did  not  know.  It  was  an  accident  that  happened  when, 
as  a  passive  resister,  he  lay  in  Bedford  Jail.  He  didn't  in- 
tend to  write  anything  very  serious;  he  only  wanted  to  do 
something  to  pass  away  the  time. 

"I  only  thought  to  make 
I  know  not  what,  nor  did  I  undertake 
To  please  my  neighbor,  no  not  I. 
I  did  it  my  own  self  to  gratify, 
Neither  did  I  but  vacant  seasons  spend, 
In  this  my  scribble,  nor  did  I  intend 
But  to  divert  myself  in  doing  this 
From  worser  thoughts  which  make  me  do  amiss." 

We  are  pleasantly  surprised  at  this  exhibition  of  bohemian- 
ism.  The  Puritan  conscience  is  evidently  taking  a  vacation, 
and  native  imagination  has  its  fling.  The  serious  reader  is 
flouted  with  gay  unconcern. 

"Some  there  be  who  say,  'He  laughs  too  loud,' 
And  some  do  say  his  head  is  in  a  cloud." 

What  of  it!  When  a  man  is  in  jail  for  "devilishly  and 
perniciously  abstaining  from  coming  to  church,"  he  must  be 
allowed  some  amusement.  There  are  some  incongruities 
connected  with  the  religious  life  that  cause  a  smile  even  to 
the  most  earnest. 

"Some  things  are  of  such  nature  as  to  make 
The  fancy  chuckle  while  his  heart  doth  break." 


INTRODUCTION  vii 

The  fact  of  the  matter  was  that  John  Bunyan,  besides 
being  a  devoted,  evangelical  preacher  belonging  to  the  strait- 
est  sect  of  his  day,  was  also  a  man  of  genius.  For  the  most 
part  he  did  what  was  expected  of  him.  But  once  upon  a 
time  his  genius  ran  away  with  him.  Starting  out  to  expound 
the  Calvinistic  doctrine  of  salvation,  he  found  himself  carried 
away  into  new  regions  of  experience.  Occasionally  we  see 
the  Puritan  preacher  tugging  at  the  reins,  but  in  the  end  his 
genius  gets  the  better  of  him. 

The  student  of  literature  may  find  it  interesting  to  trace 
"The  Pilgrim's  Progress"  to  its  sources  in  previous  allegories 
based  on  the  analogy  of  life  to  a  journey.  But  Bunyan 
needed  no  further  suggestion  than  that  which  he  found  in 
the  Bible,  where  men  of  faith  were  spoken  of  as  pilgrims  and 
strangers  who  "desire  a  better  country,  that  is  an  heavenly." 
That  is  the  argument  of  "The  Pilgrim's  Progress  from  this 
world  to  that  which  is  to  come,  in  the  similitude  of  a  dream, 
wherein  is  discovered  his  manner  of  setting  out,  his  dan- 
gerous journey  and  safe  arrival  at  the  desired  country." 

His  manner  of  setting  out  is  what  we  should  expect.  We 
see  the  English  Calvinist  of  the  seventeenth  century.  He 
is  "standing  in  a  certain  place  with  his  face  from  his  own 
house,  a  book  in  his  hand  and  a  great  burden  on  his  back. 
As  he  reads  he  weeps  and  cries,  'What  shall  I  do?"' 

But  who  could  have  supposed  that  his  dangerous  journey 
could  be  made  so  humanly  interesting  and  that  men  of  every 
creed  could  find  it  intimately  true  to  their  own  experiences  ? 
Bunyan,  in  attempting  to  illustrate  a  definite  plan  of  salva- 
tion, became  the  interpreter  of  all  idealistic  endeavor. 

The  fortunate  reader  of  "The  Pilgrim's  Progress"  is  one 
who  read  it  as  a  child,  before  he  was  interested  in  theology 
or  philosophy.  Then  he  received  a  multitude  of  vivid  pic- 
tures which  afterwards  he  may  recall  and  use  for  his  soul's 
health.  If  he  be  an  American  and  years  after  has  the  good 
fortune  to  wander  over  the  highways  and  byways  of  rural 


viii  INTRODUCTION 

England,  he  will  have  a  rare  pleasure.  Where  has  he  seen 
this  country  before  ?  Why  does  this  English  landscape  have 
such  a  spiritual  meaning? 

It  is  because  he  has  lived  in  it  when  it  was  a  land  of  dreams. 
Just  as  Cervantes  makes  one  see  the  Spain  of  the  sixteenth 
century,  so  Bunyan  makes  real  the  rural  England  of  the 
seventeenth  century.  It  is  a  pleasant  country.  The  high- 
way is  not  broad  and  bare.  It  runs  between  hedges,  and 
now  and  then  between  garden-walls.  One  recognizes  the  fa- 
miliar wicket  gates.  There  are  old  villages  that  lie  a  little 
off  the  main  highway,  and  one  is  always  tempted  to  take  a 
footpath  or  a  green  lane.  Now  and  then  one  sees  a  castle. 
It  is  a  populous  land.  There  are  always  wayfarers  on  the 
road,  ready  to  ask  or  answer  questions.  At  the  end  of  the 
day's  journey  one  can  almost  always  find  an  inn,  or,  if  one 
is  fortunate  enough  to  have  friends,  there  is  a  gentleman's 
house,  where  after  supper  they  are  "very  merry  and  sit  at 
table  a  long  time  talking  of  many  things."  It  is  not  a 
densely  wooded  country,  though  there  are  many  noble  trees. 
There  are  some  steep  hills  and  now  and  then  a  dark  valley 
into  which  one  descends,  not  without  fear.  But  nature 
never  shows  primeval  fierceness.  Even  in  the  valley  of  hu- 
miliation there  is  a  small  boy  who  sings  a  cheerful  little  song 
and  wears  the  herb  heartsease  in  his  bosom.  On  the  moors 
the  shepherds  lean  upon  their  staves  and  talk.  Their  names 
are  Knowledge,  Experience,  Watchful,  and  Sincere.  But,  for 
all  their  allegorical  names,  they  are  real  shepherds. 

When  first  I  looked  from  the  summit  of  the  Malvern  Hills 
across  the  smiling  country  of  Hereford,  with  the  Welsh 
mountains  beyond,  I  asked  myself,  Where  had  I  seen  it  be- 
fore ?  Then  I  remembered  that  long  ago  "I  saw  in  my  dream 
that  on  the  morrow  he  got  up  to  go  fonvard  and  they  desired 
him  to  stay  till  the  next  day  also,  and  then  said  they,  'We 
will  (if  the  day  be  clear)  shew  you  the  delectable  mountains,' 
so  he  consented  and  staid.  When  the  morning  was  up,  they 


INTRODUCTION  ix 

had  him  go  to  the  top  of  the  house  and  bid  him  look  south: 
so  he  did,  and  behold  at  a  great  distance  he  saw  a  most 
pleasant  mountainous  country,  beautified  with  woods,  vine- 
yards, fruits  of  all  sorts,  flowers  also,  with  springs  and  foun- 
tains delectable  to  behold.  Then  he  asked  the  name  of  the 
country.  They  said,  'It  is  Emanuel's  land/" 

The  critics  of  Bunyan  have  often  been  misled  by  the  open- 
ing scene  into  treating  his  allegory  as  if  it  illustrated  merely 
the  frantic  flight  of  an  individual  from  the  city  of  destruction. 
Did  not  Christian  leave  wife  and  children  to  their  fate  while 
he  sought  to  save  his  own  soul  ?  We  with  our  modern 
ideals  of  social  service  and  community  welfare  are  inclined 
to  look  scornfully  on  such  self-centred  piety.  But  if  that 
were  Bunyan's  original  intent  he  makes  noble  amends  by 
giving  us  the  second  part.  Here  the  hero  is  not  Christian, 
fleeing  from  the  wrath  to  come,  but  Mr.  Great-heart,  who 
goes  back  to  save  others  and  help  them  on  their  way,  and 
the  counsellor  is  not  Mr.  Evangelist  but  Mr.  Sagacity.  The 
whole  atmosphere  is  social  and  friendly.  In  the  band  are 
Mr.  Honest  and  Mr.  Valiant-for-the-truth,  good  fighting 
men.  Mr.  Honest  came,  as  he  frankly  acknowledged,  from 
the  town  of  Stupidity,  but  he  has  no  mind  to  return  to  his 
birthplace.  When  he  tells  his  story,  Mr.  Great-heart  claps 
him  on  the  back  and  cries,  "Well  said,  Father  Honest,  for 
by  this  I  know  that  thou  art  a  cock  of  the  right  kind."  No 
one  can  trudge  along  more  sturdily  than  Mr.  Honest,  but 
when  evening  comes  on  and  the  more  quick-witted  pilgrims 
make  a  circle  and  begin  to  tell  riddles,  the  old  gentleman 
nods.  "Then  said  Great-heart,  'What,  Sir,  you  begin  to 
be  drowsy,  come,  rub  up!'"  But  Mr.  Honest  is  no  great 
hand  for  riddles.  Give  him  something  to  do  and  he  is  as 
brisk  as  the  youngest  of  them. 

With  the  Pilgrim  band  are  many  who,  if  left  to  themselves, 
would  have  fallen  by  the  way.  Here  was  Mr.  Fearing,  of 
whom  Mr.  Honest  says,  "He  was  one  of  the  most  trouble- 


x  INTRODUCTION 

some  pilgrims  that  ever  I  met  with  in  all  my  days."  And 
Mr.  Great-heart  tells  how  he  lay  in  the  slough  of  Despond 
for  a  whole  month,  and  when  he  got  over  he  would  not  be- 
lieve it.  "And  yet  when  he  came  to  the  Hill  of  Difficulty  he 
made  no  stick  at  that,  nor  did  he  much  fear  the  lions." 

A  company  can  go  no  faster  than  its  slowest  members. 
The  Pilgrim  band  was  held  back  by  Mr.  Ready-to-halt  and 
Mr.  Feeble-mind.  Often  it  was  sorry  going,  but  at  the  end 
of  the  day  Mr.  Great-heart  could  get  the  sober  satisfaction 
that  belongs  to  a  social  reformer  who  feels  that,  after  all, 
"they  made  a  pretty  good  shift  to  wag  along." 

Fielding  himself  never  pictured  rollicking  wayside  merry- 
making with  more  sympathy  than  Bunyan  did  in  the  scene 
where  the  pilgrims  celebrate  their  victory  over  Giant  Despair. 

"Now  when  Feeble-mind  and  Ready-to-halt  saw  that  it 
was  the  head  of  Giant  Despair  indeed  they  were  very  jocund 
and  merry.  Now,  Christiana,  if  need  was,  could  play  on  the 
viol  and  her  daughter  Mercy  upon  the  lute.  So  since  they 
were  so  merry  disposed  she  played  them  a  lesson  and  Ready- 
to-halt  would  dance.  So  he  took  Despondency's  daughter, 
Much-afraid,  by  the  hand  and  to  dancing  they  went  in  the 
road.  True,  he  could  not  dance  without  one  crutch  in  his 
hand,  but  I  promise  you  he  footed  it  well,  also  the  girl  was 
to  be  commended,  for  she  answered  the  music  handsomely. 
As  for  Mr.  Despondency,  the  music  was  not  much  for  him; 
he  was  for  feeding  rather  than  dancing,  for  that  he  was 
almost  starved.  So  Christiana  gave  him  some  of  her  bottle 
of  spirits  for  present  relief,  and  then  prepared  him  something 
to  eat,  and  in  a  little  time  the  old  gentleman  was  finely 
revived." 

Running  through  "The  Pilgrim's  Progress"  there  is  a  vein 
of  irony  which  the  modern  reader  may  miss  if  he  does  not 
remember  that  Bunyan  was  a  rebel  against  the  established 
order  both  in  church  and  state.  The  parson  and  the  squire 


INTRODUCTION  xi 

were  his  bitter  enemies.  In  jail  he  saw  the  seamy  side  of 
Respectability.  Mr.  Hold-the- world,  Mr.  Smooth-man,  Mr. 
Facing-both-ways,  Mr.  Anything,  and  Parson  Two-tongues  of 
Vanity  Fair  were  real  people  to  him,  and  he  had  suffered 
many  things  from  them.  His  fancy  chuckled  as  he  thought 
of  Mr.  By-ends  of  Fair-speech,  who  inherited  from  his  great- 
grandfather the  waterman  his  ability  to  look  one  way  while 
rowing  another.  These  fair-weather  Christians  had  all  gone 
to  school  "in  Love-gain  in  the  County  of  Coveting  in  the 
north." 

Who  can  forget  the  satire  in  the  conversation  in  regard  to 
true  religion  between  Mr.  Money-love  and  Mr.  Hold-the- 
world?  "For  my  part,"  says  Mr.  Hold-the- world,  "I  like 
the  religion  best  that  will  stand  with  the  security  of  God's 
good  blessing  unto  us,  for  who  can  imagine,  that  is  ruled  by 
his,  reason,  since  God  hath  bestowed  on  us  the  good  things 
of  this  life,  but  that  he  would  have  us  keep  them  for  his 
sake  ?  Abraham  and  Solomon  grew  rich  in  religion." 

How  admirably  they  dispose  of  the  case  of  a  minister — "a 
worthy  man  possessed  of  a  small  benefice,  and  has  in  eye  a 
greater  and  more  fat  withal"!  Can  he  as  an  honest  man 
give  up  or  alter  some  of  his  principles  in  order  to  obtain  the 
fat  benefice  ?  Yes,  says  the  sage  counsellor. 

"His  desire  after  that  benefice  makes  him  a  more  studious 
man,  a  more  zealous  preacher  and  so  makes  him  a  better 
man,  yea  makes  him  better  improve  his  parts,  which  is  ac- 
cording to  the  mind  of  God."  As  for  his  giving  up  his  own 
principles  and  accepting  those  of  his  wealthy  congregation, 
'%that  proves  that  he  is  of  a  self-denying  disposition." 

Nothing  could  be  more  delicate  than  Bunyan's  treatment 
of  these  profitable  self-denials. 

If  I  have  spoken  disparagingly  of  Bunyan's  other  works, 
I  would  make  an  exception  of  "Grace  Abounding  to  the 
Chief  of  Sinners."  This  should  be  read  by  any  one  who 


xii  INTRODUCTION 

would  learn  why  Bunyan  became  the  prince  of  allegorists. 
The  writer  of  this  autobiography  had  lived  the  life  of  alle- 
gory. His  soul  was  a  battle-field  across  which  contending 
armies  fought.  Bunyan  visualized  and  personified  all  the 
virtues  and  vices  which  he  found  in  himself.  He  writes  as  a 
man  possessed.  His  mind  was  possessed  alternately  by  devils 
and  angels. 

We  see  also  what  a  part  single  sentences  played  in  this 
mental  conflict.  He  not  only  saw  them  but  he  heard  them. 
Of  one  such  text,  which  he  found  at  last,  not  in  the  canonical 
Scriptures  but  in  the  Apocrypha,  he  says:  "It  had  such 
strength  and  comfort  on  my  spirit  that  it  was  as  if  it  talked 
to  me." 

Sometimes  two  contradictory  texts  would  trouble  him,  and 
their  conflict  would  almost  drive  him  to  despair.  It  was  as 
if  they  were  hostile  warriors  contending  for  his  soul.  "Lord, 
thought  I,  if  both  these  scriptures  would  meet  at  once  in  my 
heart  I  wonder  which  of  them  would  get  the  better  of  me." 

Bunyan's  own  words  have  this  kind  of  magical  power. 
They  are  alive.  We  may  be  reading  a  bit  of  moralizing  that 
promises  to  be  dull.  Suddenly  out  of  the  old  book  appears 
a  sentence  addressed  to  our  personal  experience.  It  talks 
to  us. 

And  we  not  only  hear  but  see.  Our  imagination  is  a  pic- 
ture-gallery. There  upon  the  walls  we  see  the  House  Beau- 
tiful, the  Hill  Difficulty,  Doubting  Castle,  the  street  scenes 
in  Vanity  Fair,  the  Interpreter's  House,  the  Delectable 
Mountains,  the  Land  of  Beulah,  the  Dark  River,  and  beyond 
it  the  gleaming  towers  of  the  Celestial  City.  There  also  we 
see  portraits  that  do  not  fade — the  eager  pilgrim,  the  muck- 
raker,  the  brisk  young  lad  named  Ignorance,  My  Lady 
Feigning,  and  that  highly  respectable  gentleman  Mr. 
Worldly- Wiseman . 

Here  is  a  book  that  does  not  cease  to  charm.  It  is  pleas- 
ant to  think  that  "The  Pilgrim's  Progress"  is  still  among 


INTRODUCTION  xiii 

the  "best-sellers."      Bunyan's  incantation  over  his  readers 
has  not  yet  lost  its  power. 

"Would'st  thou  see 

A  man  in  the  clouds  and  hear  him  speak  to  thee? 
Would'st  thou  be  in  a  dream  and  yet  not  sleep  ? 
Or  would'st  thou  in  a  moment  laugh  and  weep  ? 
Or  would'st  thou  lose  thyself  and  catch  no  harm? 
And  find  thyself  again  without  a  charm? 

Would'st  thou  read  thyself,  and  read  thou  knowest  not  what, 
And  yet  know  whether  thou  art  blest  or  not 
By  reading  the  same  lines?     O  then  come  hither 
And  lay  my  book,  thy  head  and  heart  together." 

\ 
SAMUEL  McCnoRD  CROTHERS. 

CAMBRIDGE,  MASS.,  May  1st,  1918. 


ANNOTATIONS 

"BY  MEN   OF  VARIOUS  PROFESSIONS" 

So  far  as  the  immediate  didactic  purpose  is  concerned,  the 
Pilgrim's  Progress  needs  little  explanation.  A  few  obsolete 
words  and  phrases  there  are,  but  the  theological  teaching  is 
made  clear  by  the  author.  Bunyan  acted  as  his  own  inter- 
preter and  explained  what  he  meant  by  his  allegory,  giving 
chapter  and  verse  for  his  doctrines. 

But  we  continue  to  read  the  book  not  for  what  Bunyan  de- 
liberately put  into  it,  but  for  what  we  get  out  of  it.  We  read 
the  text  in  the  light  of  our  own  experience  and  not  of  his. 
Lord  Brougham  sarcastically  remarked  of  a  certain  writer, 
"Although  he  did  not  always  understand  his  own  meaning, 
he  always  contrived  to  make  it  intelligible  to  us."  Bunyan 
undoubtedly  understood  his  own  meaning,  but  there  are  other 
meanings,  or  at  least  other  applications  that  occur  to  each 
reader.  He  was  quite  content  that  it  should  be  so.  He 
would  allow  us  to  get  what  good  we  may  from  his  parables. 

"Let  Truth  be  free 

To  make  her  sallies  upon  Thee  and  Me 
Which  way  it  pleases  God." 

The  Pilgrim's  Progress  is  a  book  for  practical  idealists  who 
have  learned  to  say  with  Mr.  Honest,  "It  happeneth  to  us 
as  it  happeneth  to  wayfaring  men,  sometimes  our  way  is  clean, 
sometimes  foul,  sometimes,  up-hill  sometimes  down-hill,  we 
are  seldom  at  a  certainty.  The  wind  is  not  always  at  our 
backs  nor  is  every  one  a  friend  whom  we  meet  within  the  way. 
We  have  met  with  some  notable  rubs  already,  and  what  are 


xvi  ANNOTATIONS 

behind  we  know  not,  but  for  the  most  part  we  find  it  true  that 
has  been  talked  of  old;  a  good  man  must  suffer  trouble." 

The  Pilgrim's  Progress  might  be  annotated  by  men  of  vari- 
ous professions,  each  reminded  by  some  "notable  rub"  in  his 
own  experience,  of  some  scene  already  familiar  to  his  imagi- 
nation. One  may  be  allowed  to  suggest  some  of  these  com- 
ments. 

The  Slough  of  Despond.    The  Conscientious  Teacher's  Note. 

"In  my  classroom  I  have  been  watching  two  boys  wallow- 
ing in  the  slough  of  despond.  They  are  in  the  state  of  mind 
described  by  Milton,  'in  those  grammatic  flats  and  shallows 
where  they  stuck  unreasonably  to  learn  a  few  words  writh 
lamentable  construction.'  As  for  their  lessons,  I  cannot  tell 
which  is  worse;  but  in  their  characters  I  see  a  difference. 
Poor  Pliable  gives  a  desperate  effort  or  two  and  gets  out  the 
easiest  way,  which  is  the  side  nearest  his  own  house.  But 
for  the  other  I  have  good  hope.  He  is  still  in  the  mire,  but 
he  never  turns  his  back  on  a  difficulty.  I  trust  I  may  yet  be 
for  him  the  man  called  Help.  That  is  what  a  teacher  is  for." 

The  Town  of  Morality.     Note  by  a  Social  Reformer. 

"I  have  just  come  from  a  committee  meeting.  Some  of 
our  best  citizens  were  there,  and  there  was  much  talk,  but 
nothing  came  of  it.  Mr.  Worldly-wise-man  was  in  the  chair, 
and  there  were  reports  from  Mr.  Legality  and  his  son  Mr. 
Civility.  They  'pointed  with  pride,  and  viewed  with  alarm' 
after  the  manner  of  their  kind.  They  are  proud  of  what  they 
are  and  alarmed  at  any  unusual  righteousness.  From  what 
they  said  I  was  led  to  suspect  that,  as  in  Bunyan's  time,  there 
are  in  the  town  of  Morality  many  houses  to  let.  *  But  why 
call  it  morality?  When  will  men  learn  that  morality  is  not 
a  town  but  a  road,  and  the  truly  moral  thing  is  to  keep  mov- 
ing ?  Mr.  Evangelist  was  right.  '  Do  you  see  yonder  wicket 
gate?'  The  man  said  'No.'  'Do  you  see  yonder  shining 


ANNOTATIONS  xvii 

light?'  He  said,  'I  think  I  do.'  Then  said  Evangelist, 
'Keep  that  light  in  your  eye  and  go  directly  thereto,  so  thou 
shalt  see  the  Gate,  at  which  when  thou  knockest  it  shall  be 
told  thee  what  thou  shalt  do.' 

"How  like  a  breath  of  fresh  air  that  is!  We  are  out  of  the 
dull  little  town.  We  are  on  the  open  road." 

The  Interpreter  s  House.     The  Humanist's  Note. 

"My  great  enemy  is  the  man  of  the  literal  mind.  He  is  a 
devotee  of  facts.  He  never  tires  of  talking  about  *  things  as 
they  are.'  But  what  does  it  profit  a  man  to  know  how  things 
are  if  he  does  not  know  what  they  mean  ?  All  great  literature 
is  interpretative.  It  is  the  House  of  the  Interpreter.  'So 
they  drew  towards  the  House  (The  House  of  the  Interpreter), 
and  when  they  came  to  the  door  they  heard  great  talk.' 

"The  dry-as-dust  pedant — what  is  he  but  the  man  with 
the  muck-rake  who  never  looks  up  at  the  golden  crown,  but 
diligently  rakes  up  the  bits  of  straw  upon  the  floor?  Every 
true  humanist  joins  with  Christiana  in  her  impulsive  prayer, 
'O  deliver  us  from  this  muck-rake.'" 

The  Hill  Difficulty.     Note  by  a  Genial  Puritan. 

"People  have  a  false  idea  of  the  work  of  the  Puritan.  He 
is  looked  upon  as  an  ungenial  fellow  who  delights  in  putting 
difficulties  in  the  way  of  people  who  are  intent  on  having  a 
good  time.  The  fact  is  that  his  one  desire  is  to  remove  diffi- 
culties in  the  path  of  decent  people  who  want  to  do  their  duty. 
Do  you  remember  the  conversation  of  the  pilgrims  when  they 
rested  in  the  arbor  half-way  up  the  Hill  Difficulty  ?  The  little 
boy  said,  'My  mother  told  me  that  the  way  to  Heaven  is  up 
a  ladder  and  the  way  to  Hell  is  down  a  hill.'  The  boy  was 
willing  to  face  the  difficulties  that  were  inevitable,  but  he  saw 
no  reason  why  the  situation  should  not  be  reversed.  'The 
day  is  coming  when  in  my  opinion  going  down-hill  will  be  the 
hardest  of  all.' 


xviii  ANNOTATIONS 

"There  you  have  the  whole  matter  in  a  nutshell.  We  must 
establish  conditions  under  which  it  will  be  easier  to  do  right 
and  harder  to  do  wrong." 

Vanity  Fair.     The  Satirist. 

"Humor  and  satire  both  deal  with  incongruities  observed 
in  human  conduct  and  character.  The  field  of  the  humorist 
is  as  wide  as  humanity,  but  there  is  only  one  sin  that  demands 
the  lash  of  the  satirist,  and  that  is  hypocrisy.  The  smug 
traders  of  Vanity  Fair  cannot  be  caricatured.  The  cruellest 
punishment  is  to  allow  them  to  speak  for  themselves.  Satire 
is  only  realism  ruthlessly  applied  to  people  who  are  not  real." 

Doubting  Castle.     The  Thinker. 

"I  have  been  following  some  lines  of  thought  which  have 
brought  me  to  a  strange  depression  of  spirits.  Nothing  seems 
worth  while.  How  exactly  Bunyan  described  my  case.  I 
left  the  main  travelled  highway,  and  crossed  By-Path 
meadow,  till  I  found  myself  in  the  power  of  Giant  Despair. 

"I  have  just  read  again  the  passage  where  Christian  re- 
members that  he  has  a  key  in  his  own  bosom  which  he  is  per- 
suaded can  open  any  lock  in  Doubting  Castle.  'Then  said 
Hopeful,  "That's  good  news,  brother,  pluck  it  out  of  thy 
bosom  and  try."' 

"That  was  what  William  James  meant  by  'the  will  to  be- 
lieve.' What  if  it  should  prove  true  that  every  man  carries 
about  in  his  own  bosom  a  key  which,  if  properly  used,  will 
unlock  his  particular  dungeon.  The  word  of  a  wholesome 
philosophy  is,  'Pluck  it  out  and  try.' 

"I  like  that  touch  of  Bunyan's  about  the  Iron  Gate — 
'That  lock  went  damnable  hard,  yet  the  key  did  open  it.' 
And  I  like  that  allusion  to  Giant  Despair's  occasional  weak- 
ness— '  Sometimes  in  sunshine  weather  he  fell  into  fits.'  Even 
the  most  consistent  pessimist  is  subject  to  fits  of  cheerful- 
ness." 


ANNOTATIONS  xix 

At  the  River.     The  Soldier. 

"One  who  faces  death  as  a  soldier  does  learns  that  courage 
is  a  much  more  common  quality  than  most  people  think.  It 
is  the  distant  and  imagined  peril  that  men  fear.  Among  the 
pilgrims  were  many  timid  people.  But  at  the  river's  brink, 
Mr.  Feeble- mind  and  Mr.  Ready-to-halt  and  Mr.  Despon- 
dency go  forward  with  cheerful  confidence.  Not  much  is 
said,  everything  is  simple  and  manly.  The  tremulous  ques- 
tions about  salvation  have  no  place  in  the  last  hour.  Why 
should  Mr.  Honest  be  afraid  of  dying?  Mr.  Honest  in  his 
lifetime  had  spoken  to  one  Good  Conscience  to  meet  him 
there,  which  he  also  did,  and  lent  him  his  hand  and  so  helped 
him  over.  As  for  Mr.  Valiant-f or- truth,  all  that  needs  to  be 
said  is,  'So  he  passed  over,  and  all  the  trumpets  sounded  for 
him  on  the  other  side.'" 

SAMUEL  McCnoRD  CROTHERS. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 


THE  AUTHOR'S  APOLOGY  FOR  HIS  BOOK 

WHEN  at  the  first  I  took  my  pen  in  hand 
Thus  for  to  write,  I  did  not  understand 
That  I  at  all  should  make  a  little  book 
In  such  a  mode;  nay,  I  had  undertook 
To  make  another;  which  when  almost  done, 
Before  I  was  aware  I  this  begun. 

And  thus  it  was:  I,  writing  of  the  way 
And  race  of  saints,  in  this  our  gospel  day, 
Fell  suddenly  into  an  allegory 
About  their  journey,  and  the  way  to  glory, 
In  more  than  twenty  things  which  I  set  down; 
This  done,  I  twenty  more  had  in  my  crown, 
And  they  again  began  to  multiply, 
Like  sparks  that  from  the  coals  of  fire  do  fly. 
Nay,  then,  thought  I,  if  that  you  breed  so  fast, 
I'll  put  you  by  yourselves,  lest  you  at  last 
Should  prove  ad  infinitum,  and  eat  out 
The  book  that  I  already  am  about. 

Well,  so  I  did;  but  yet  I  did  not  think 
To  show  to  all  the  world  my  pen  and  ink 
In  such  a  mode;  I  only  thought  to  make 
I  knew  not  what:  nor  did  I  undertake 
Thereby  to  please  my  neighbor:  no,  not  I; 
I  did  it  mine  own  self  to  gratify. 

Neither  did  I  but  vacant  seasons  spend 
In  this  my  scribble;  nor  did  I  intend 
But  to  divert  myself  in  doing  this 
From  worser  thoughts,  which  make  me  do  amiss. 

Thus  I  set  pen  to  paper  with  delight, 
And  quickly  had  my  thoughts  in  black  and  white. 
For  having  now  my  method  by  the  end, 
Still  as  I  pull'd,  it  came;  and  so  I  penn'd 
It  down,  until  at  last  it  came  to  be 
For  length  and  breadth  the  bigness  which  you  see. 

Well,  when  I  had  thus  put  mine  ends  together, 
I  show'd  them  others,  that  I  might  see  whether 
I 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

They  would  condemn  them,  or  them  justify: 
And  some  said,  Let  them  live;  some,  Let  them  die; 
Some  said,  John,  print  it;  others  said,  Not  so; 
Some  said,  It  might  do  good;  others  said,  No. 

Now  was  I  in  a  strait,  and  did  not  see 
Which  was  the  best  thing  to  be  done  by  me: 
'  At  last  I  thought,  Since  you  are  thus  divided, 
I  print  it  will,  and  so  the  case  decided. 

For,  thought  I,  Some,  I  see,  would  have  it  done, 
Though  others  in  that  channel  do  not  run. 
To  prove,  then,  who  advised  for  the  best, 
Thus  I  thought  fit  to  put  it  to  the  test. 

I  further  thought,  if  now  I  did  deny 
Those  that  would  have  it  thus,  to  gratify; 
I  did  not  know  but  hinder  them  I  might 
Of  that  which  would  to  them  be  great  delight. 

For  those  that  were  not  for  its  coming  forth, 
I  said  to  them,  Offend  you  I  am  loth, 
Yet  since  your  brethren  pleased  with  it  be, 
Forbear  to  judge,  till  you  do  further  see. 

If  that  thou  wilt  not  read,  let  it  alone; 
Some  love  the  meat,  some  love  to  pick  the  bone: 
Yea,  that  I  might  them  better  palliate, 
I  did  too  with  them  thus  expostulate: 

May  I  not  write  in  such  a  style  as  this? 
In  such  a  method  too,  and  yet  not  miss 
My  end, — thy  good  ?     Why  may  it  not  be  done  ? 
Dark  clouds  bring  waters,  when  the  bright  bring  none. 
Yea,  dark  or  bright,  if  they  their  silver  drops 
Cause  to  descend,  the  earth,  by  yielding  crops, 
Gives  praise  to  both,  and  carpeth  not  at  either, 
But  treasures  up  the  fruit  they  yield  together; 
Yea,  so  commixes  both,  that  in  her  fruit 
None  can  distinguish  this  from  that:  they  suit 
Her  well,  when  hungry;  but  if  she  be  full, 
She  spues  out  both,  and  makes  their  blessings  null. 

You  see  the  ways  the  fisherman  doth  take 
To  catch  the  fish ;  what  engines  doth  he  make ! 
Behold  how  he  engageth  all  his  wits; 
Also  his  snares,  lines,  angles,  hooks,  and  nets: 
Yet  fish  there  be,  that  neither  hook,  nor  line, 
Nor  snare,  nor  net,  nor  engine  can  make  thine; 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

They  must  be  groped  for,  and  be  tickled  too, 
Or  they  will  not  be  catch'd,  whate'er  you  do. 

How  doth  the  fowler  seek  to  catch  his  game 
By  divers  means,  all  which  one  cannot  name? 
His  gun,  his  nets,  his  lime- twigs,  light,  and  bell; 
He  creeps,  he  goes,  he  stands;  yea,  who  can  tell 
Of  all  his  postures?     Yet  there's  none  of  these 
Will  make  him  master  of  what  fowls  he  please. 
Yea,  he  must  pipe  and  whistle  to  catch  this ; 
Yet,  if  he  does  so,  that  bird  he  will  miss. 

If  that  a  pearl  may  in  a  toad's  head  dwell, 
And  may  be  found  too  in  an  oyster  shell; 
If  things  that  promise  nothing  do  contain 
What  better  is  than  gold;  who  will  disdain, 
That  have  an  inkling  of  it,  there  to  look, 
That  they  may  find  it?     Now  my  little  book 
(Though  void  of  all  those  paintings  that  may  make 
It  with  this  or  the  other  man  to  take) 
Is  not  without  those  things  that  do  excel 
What  do  in  brave,  but  empty  notions  dwell. 

Well,  yet  I  am  not  fully  satisfied, 
That  this  your  book  will  stand,  when  soundly  tried. 

Why,  what's  the  matter?     It  is  dark.     What  tho'? 
But  it  is  feigned:  What  of  that,  I  trow? 
Some  men,  by  feigning  words  as  dark  as  mine, 
Make  truth  to  spangle,  and  its  rays  to  shine. 

But  they  wrant  solidness.     Speak  man  thy  mind. 
They  drown' d  the  weak;  metaphors  make  us  blind. 

Solidity,  indeed,  becomes  the  pen 
Of  him  that  writeth  things  divine  to  men; 
But  must  I  needs  want  solidness,  because 
By  metaphors  I  speak?     Were  not  God's  laws, 
His  gospel  laws,  in  olden  time  held  forth 
By  types,  shadows,  and  metaphors?     Yet  loth 
Will  any  sober  man  be  to  find  fault 
With  them,  lest  he  be  found  for  to  assault 
The  highest  wisdom.     No,  he  rather  stoops, 
And  seeks  to  Gnd  out  what  by  pins  and  loops, 
By  calves  and  sheep,  by  heifers  and  by  rams, 
By  birds  and  herbs,  and  by  the  blood  of  lambs, 
God  speaketh  to  him.     And  happy  is  he 
That  finds  the  light  and  grace  that  in  them  be. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

Be  not  too  forward,  therefore,  to  conclude 
That  I  want  solidness, — that  I  am  rude: 
All  things  solid  in  show,  not  solid  be; 
All  things  in  parables  despise  not  we, 
Lest  things  most  hurtful  lightly  we  receive, 
And  things  that  good  are  of  our  souls  bereave. 

My  dark  and  cloudy  words  they  do  but  hold 
The  truth,  as  cabinets  enclose  the  gold. 

The  prophets  used  much  by  metaphors 
To  set  forth  truth;  yea,  whoso  considers 
Christ,  His  apostles  too,  shall  plainly  see 
That  truths  to  this  day  in  such  mantles  be. 

Am  I  afraid  to  say  that  holy  writ, 
Which  for  its  style  and  phrase  puts  dowrn  all  wit, 
Is  everywhere  so  full  of  all  these  things — 
Dark  figures,  allegories  ?     Yet  there  springs 
From  that  same  book  that  lustre,  and  those  rays 
Of  light,  that  turns  our  darkest  nights  to  days. 

Come,  let  my  carper  to  his  life  now  look, 
And  find  there  darker  lines  than  in  my  book 
He  findeth  any;  yea,  and  let  him  know, 
That  in  his  best  things  there  are  worse  lines  too. 

May  we  but  stand  before  impartial  men, 
To  his  poor  one  I  dare  adventure  ten, 
That  they  will  take  my  meaning  in  these  lines 
Far  better  than  his  lies  in  silver  shrines. 
Come,  truth,  although  in  swaddling-clouts,  I  find, 
Informs  the  judgment,  rectifies  the  mind, 
Pleases  the  understanding,  makes  the  will 
Submit;  the  memory  too  it  doth  fill 
With  what  doth  our  imagination  please; 
Likewise  it  tends  our  troubles  to  appease. 

Sound  words  I  know  Timothy  is  to  use, 
And  old  wives'  fables  he  is  to  refuse; 
But  yet  grave  Paul  him  nowhere  did  forbid 
The  use  of  parables;  in  which  lay  hid 
That  gold,  those  pearls,  and  precious  stones  that  were 
Worth  digging  for,  and  that  with  greatest  care. 

Let  me  add  one  word  more,  O  Man  of  God ! 
Art  thou  offended?     Dost  thou  wish  I  had 
Put  forth  my  matter  in  another  dress, 
Or  that  I  had  in  things  been  more  express? 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  5 

Three  things  let  me  propound,  then  I  submit 
To  those  that  are  my  betters,  as  is  fit. 

1.  I  find  not  that  I  am  denied  the  use 
Of  this  my  method,  so  I  no  abuse 

Put  on  the  words,  things,  readers;  or  be  rude 
In  handling  figure  or  similitude, 
In  application;  but,  all  that  I  may, 
Seek  the  advance  of  truth  this  or  that  way. 
Denied,  did  I  say  ?     Nay,  I  have  leave 
(Example  too,  and  that  from  them  that  have 
God  better  pleased  by  their  words  or  ways, 
Than  any  man  that  breatheth  nowadays) 
Thus  to  express  my  mind,  thus  to  declare 
Things  unto  thee,  that  excellentest  are. 

2.  I  find  that  men  (as  high  as  trees)  will  write 
Dialogue- wise;  yet  no  man  doth  them  slight 
For  writing  so:  indeed  if  they  abuse 

Truth,  cursed  be  they,  and  the  craft  they  use 

To  that  intent;  but  yet  let  Truth  be  free 

To  make  her  sallies  upon  thee  and  me, 

Which  way  it  pleases  God.     For  who  knows  how, 

Better  than  He  that  taught  us  first  to  plough, 

To  guide  our  mind  and  pens  for  His  design? 

And  He  makes  base  things  usher  in  divine. 

3.  I  find  that  holy  writ,  in  many  places, 

Hath  semblance  with  this  method,  where  the  cases 
Do  call  for  one  thing,  to  set  forth  another: 
Use  it  I  may,  then,  and  yet  nothing  smother 
Truth's  golden  beams;  nay,  by  this  method  may 
Make  it  cast  forth  its  rays  as  light  as  day. 

And  now,  before  I  do  put  up  my  pen, 
I'll  show  the  profit  of  my  book,  and  then 
Commit  both  thee  and  it  unto  that  Hand 
That  pulls  the  strong  down,  and  makes  weak  ones  stand. 

This  book,  it  chalketh  out  before  thine  eyes 
The  man  that  seeks  the  everlasting  prize: 
It  shows  you  whence  he  comes,  whither  he  goes, 
What  he  leaves  undone,  also  what  he  does: 
It  also  shows  you  how  he  runs,  and  runs 
Till  he  unto  the  gate  of  glory  comes. 

It  shows,  too,  who  set  out  for  life  amain, 
As  if  the  lasting  crown  they  would  attain; 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

Here  also  you  may  see  the  reason  why 
They  lose  their  labor,  and  like  fools  do  die. 

This  book  will  make  a  traveller  of  thee 
If  by  its  counsel  thou  wilt  ruled  be; 
It  will  direct  thee  to  the  Holy  Land, 
If  thou  wilt  its  directions  understand: 
Yea,  it  will  make  the  slothful  active  be; 
The  blind  also  delightful  things  to  see. 

Art  thou  for  something  rare  and  profitable? 
Wouldest  thou  see  a  truth  within  a  fable? 
Art  thou  forgetful?     Wouldest  thou  remember 
From  New-year's  day  to  the  last  of  December? 
Then  read  my  fancies,  they  will  stick  like  burrs, 
And  may  be,  to  the  helpless,  comforters. 

This  book  is  writ  in  such  a  dialect 
As  may  the  minds  of  listless  men  affect: 
It  seems  a  novelty,  and  yet  contains 
Nothing  but  sound  and  honest  gospel  strains. 

Wouldst  thou  divert  thyself  from  melancholy? 
Wouldst  thou  be  pleasant,  yet  be  far  from  folly  ? 
Wouldst  thou  read  riddles,  and  their  explanation? 
Or  else  be  drowned,  in  thy  contemplation  ? 
Dost  thou  love  picking  meat?     Or  wouldst  thou  see 
A  man  i'  th'  clouds,  and  hear  him  speak  to  thee? 
Wouldst  thou  be  in  a  dream,  and  yet  not  sleep  ? 
Or  wouldst  thou  in  a  moment  laugh  and  weep? 
Wouldest  thou  lose  thyself,  and  catch  no  harm, 
And  find  thyself  again  without  a  charm? 
Wouldst  read  thyself,  and  read  thou  know'st  not  what, 
And  yet  know  whether  thou  art  blest  or  not, 
By  reading  the  same  lines?     O  then  come  hither, 
And  lay  my  book,  thy  head,  and  heart  together. 

JOHN  BUNYAN. 


THE   PILGRIM'S   PROGRESS 

IN  THE  SIMILITUDE  OF  A  DREAM 

THE  FIRST  PART 

As  I  walked  through  the  wilderness  of  this  world,  I  lighted 
on  a  certain  place  where  was  a  den,  and  laid  me  down  in  that 
The  Jail  place  to  sleep;  and,  as  I  slept,  I  dreamed  a 

dream.  I  dreamed,  and,  behold,  I  saw  a  man 
iizir.  33.  clothed  with  rags,  standing  in  a  certain  place, 
jy^iTT  4  with  his  face  from  his  own  house,  a  book  in  his 
Acts  xm.  si.  hand,  and  a  great  burden  upon  his  back.  I 
His  outcry,  looked,  and  saw  him  open  the  book,  and  read 

therein;  and,  as  he  read,  he  wept  and  trem- 
bled; and  not  being  able  longer  to  contain,  he  brake  out  with 
a  lamentable  cry,  saying,  "What  shall  I  do?'* 

In  this  plight  therefore  he  went  home,  and  refrained  him- 
self as  long  as  he  could,  that  his  wife  and  children  should 

not  perceive  his  distress;    but  he  could  not  be 

This  world.  .  . 

silent  long,  because  that  his  trouble  increased. 
Wherefore  at  length  he  brake  his  mind  to  his  wife  and  chil- 
dren; and  thus  he  began  to  talk  to  them:  O  my  dear 
wife,  said  he,  and  you  the  children  of  my  bowels,  I,  your 
dear  friend,  am  in  myself  undone,  by  reason  of  a  burden 
that  lieth  hard  upon  me;  moreover,  I  am  for  certain  in- 
formed that  this  our  city  will  be  burnt  with  fire  from  heaven; 
in  which  fearful  overthrow,  both  myself,  with  thee  my 
wife,  and  you  my  sweet  babes,  shall  miserably  come  to 
ruin,  except  (the  which  yet  I  see  not)  some  way  of  escape 

can  be  found,  whereby  we  may  be  delivered. 
$e%%£™y£v  At  this  his  relations  were  sore  amazed;  not 

for  that  they  believed  that  what  he  had  said 
to  them  was  true,  but  because  they  thought  that  some 

7 


8  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

frenzy  distemper  had  got  into  his  head;  therefore,  it  draw- 
ing towards  night,  and  they  hoping  that  sleep  might  settle 
his  brains,  with  all  haste  they  got  him  to  bed.  But  the 
night  was  as  troublesome  to  him  as  the  day;  wherefore, 
instead  of  sleeping,  he  spent  it  in  sighs  and  tears.  So,  when 
the  morning  was  come,  they  would  know  how  he  did;  he  told 
them,  Worse  and  worse.  He  also  set  to  talking  to  them 
again;  but  they  began  to  be  hardened,  They 
a]so  thought  to  drive  away  his  distemper  by 
harsh  and  surly  carriages  to  him;  sometimes 
they  would  deride,  sometimes  they  would  chide,  and  some- 
times they  would  quite  neglect  him.  Wherefore  he  began  to 
retire  himself  to  his  chamber  to  pray  for  and  pity  them,  and 
also  to  condole  his  own  misery;  he  would  also  walk  solitarily 
in  the  fields,  sometimes  reading,  and  sometimes  praying :  and 
thus  for  some  days  he  spent  his  time. 

Now  I  saw,  upon  a  time,  when  he  was  walking  in  the  fields, 

that  he  was,  as  he  was  wont,  reading  in  his  book,  and  greatly 

distressed   in   his   mind;   and   as   he   read,  he 

Acts  xvi.  30,  31. 

burst    out,  .as    he    had    done    before,    crying, 
"What  shall  I  do  to  be  saved?" 

I  saw  also  that  he  looked  this  way  and  that  way,  as  if  he 
would  run;  yet  he  stood  still,  because,  as  I  perceived,  he 
could  not  tell  which  way  to  go.     I  looked  then,  and  saw  a 
man  named  Evangelist  coming  to  him,1  and  asked,  Where- 
fore   dost    thou    cry?       He    answered,    Sir,   I 

Heb.  ix.  27.  _      %     . 

Job  xvi.  21,  22.     perceive  by  the  book  in  my  hand  that  I  am 
condemned  to  die,  and  after  that  to  come  to 
judgment;  and  I  find  that  I  am  not  willing  to  do  the  first, 
nor  able  to  do  the  second. 

Then  said  Evangelist,  Why  not  willing  to  die,  since  this 
life  is  attended  with  so  many  evils?     The  man  answered, 

1  Christian  no  sooner  leaves  the  world  but  meets 
Evangelist,  who  lovingly  him  greets 
With  tidings  of  another;  and  doth  show 
Him  how  to  m  uut  to  that  from  this  below. 


THE   PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  9 

Because  I  fear  that  this  burden  that  is  upon  my  back  will 
sink  me  lower  than  the  grave,  and  I  shall  fall 
into  Tophet.  And,  sir,  if  I  be  not  fit  to  go  to 

prison,  I  am  not  fit,  I  am  sure,  to  go  to  judgment,  and  from 

thence  to  execution;  and  the  thoughts  of  these  things  make 

me  cry. 

Then  said  Evangelist,  If  this  be  thy  condition,  why  stand- 
est  thou  still  ?     He  answered,  Because  I  know 

Conviction  of  the  . 

necessity  of  flying,  not  whither  to  go.  1  hen  he  gave  him  a  parch- 
ment roll,  and  there  was  written  within,  "Fly 

from  the  wrath  to  come." 

The  man  therefore  read  it,  and  looking  upon  Evangelist 

very  carefully,  said,  Whither  must  I  fly?  Then  said  Evan- 
gelist, pointing  with  his  finger  over  a  very  wide 

PS.  cxix.ws.  field,  Do  you  see  yonder  Wicket-gate  ?  The 
man  said,  No.  Then  said  the  other,  Do  you 
see  y°n(^er  shining  light?  He  said,  I  think 


cannot  be  found     I  do.     Then  said  Evangelist,  Keep  that  light 

without  the  Word.     , 

in  your  eye,  and  go  up  directly  thereto:  so 
shalt  thou  see  the  gate;  at  which,  when  thou  knockest,  it 
shall  be  told  thee  what  thou  shalt  do. 

So  I  saw  in  my  dream  that  the  man  began  to  run.     Now 
he  had  not  run  far  from   his   own  door,   but  his  wife  and 

children,    perceiving    it,    began    to    cry    after 

Luke  xiv.  26. 

him  to  return;  but  the  man  put  his  fingers  in 

his  ears,  and  ran  on,  crying,  Life  !  life  !  eternal 
life  !  So  he  looked  not  behind  him,  but  fled  towards  the 
middle  of  the  plain. 

The  neighbors  also  came  out  to  see  him  run;  and  as  he  ran, 

some  mocked,  others  threatened,  and  some 
>om  the  iwratii  to  cried  after  him  to  return;  and  among  those 

that  did  so»  there  were  two  that  resolved  to 


the  world.  fetch  him  back  bv  force.     The  name  of  the  one 

Jer.  xx.  10. 

was  Obstinate,  and  the  name  of  the  other  Pli- 
able.    Now,  by  this  time,  the  man  was  got  a  good  distance 


10  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

from  them;  but,  however,  they  were  resolved  to  pursue  him,. 

which  they  did,  and  in  a  little  time  they  overtook  him.    Then 

said  the  man,  Neighbors,  wherefore  are  you 

Obstinate  and  . 

Pliable  follow  come  ?  They  said,  To  persuade  you  to  go  back 
with  us.  But  he  said,  That  can  by  no  means 
be;  you  dwell,  said  he,  in  the  City  of  Destruction,  the  place 
also  where  I  was  born:  I  see  it  to  be  so;  and,  dying  there, 
sooner  or  later,  you  will  sink  lower  than  the  grave,  into  a 
place  that  burns  with  fire  and  brimstone:  be  content,  good 
neighbors,  and  go  along  with  me. 

OBST.     What !  said  Obstinate,  and  leave  our 

Obstinate. 

friends  and  our  comforts  behind  us  ? 

CHR.  Yes,  said  Christian  (for  that  was  his  name),  be- 
rit  . ..  cause  that  all  which  you  shall  forsake  is  not 

Lfinstian.  " 

2  Cor.  iv.  is.  worthy  to  be  compared  with  a  little  of  that 
that  I  am  seeking  to  enjoy;  and  if  you  will 
go  along  with  me,  and  hold  it,  you  shall  fare 

as  I  myself;  for  there,  where  I  go,  is  enough  and  to  spare. 

Come  away,  and  prove  my  words. 

OBST.     What  are  the  things  you  seek,  since  you  leave  all 

the  world  to  find  thein? 

.  CHR.  '  I   seek  an  inheritance  incorruptible, 

undefined,  and  that  fadeth  not  away;  and  it  is 
laid  up  in  heaven,  and  safe  there,  to  be  be- 

Heb.  xi.  16.  ,          .  .          , 

stowed,  at  the  time  appointed,  on  them  that 
diligently  seek  it.     Read  it  so,  if  you  will,  in  my  book. 

OBST.  Tush!  said  Obstinate,  away  with  your  book;  will 
you  go  back  with  us,  or  no  ? 

CHR.     No,  not  I,  said  the  other;  because  I 

Luke  ix.  62.  i.iii 

have  laid  my  hand  to  the  plough. 

OBST.  Come,  then,  Neighbor  Pliable,  let  us  turn  again, 
and  go  home  without  him;  there  is  a  company  of  these 
crazed-headed  coxcombs  that,  when  they  take  a  fancy  by 
the  end,  are  wiser  in  their  own  eyes  than  seven  men  that  can 
render  a  reason. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  11 

Pu.  Then  said  Pliable,  Don't  revile;  if  what  the  good 
Christian  says  is  true,  the  things  he  looks  after  are  better 
than  ours:  my  heart  inclines  to  go  with  my  neighbor. 

OBST.  What !  more  fools  still  ?  Be  ruled  by  me,  and  go 
back;  who  knows  whither  such  a  brain-sick  fellow  will  lead 
you  ?  Go  back,  go  back,  and  be  wise. 

CHR.     Nay,    but   do   thou   come   with   me, 

Christian  ana 

Obstinate  pull  for   Neighbor  Pliable;  there  are  such  things  to  be 

Pliable  s  soul.  , &        . 

had  which  1  spoke  of,  and  many  more  glories 

besides.     If  you  believe  not  me,  read  here  in 
Heb.  ix, J7-21.      this  book;  and  for  the  truth  of  what  is  expressed 

therein,  behold,  all  is  confirmed  by  the  blood  of 
Him  that  made  it. 

PLI.     Well,  Neighbor  Obstinate,  said  Pliable,  I  begin  to 

come  to  a  point;  I  intend  to  go  along  with  this 

Pliable  contented 

to  go  with  good  man,  and  to  cast  in  my  lot  with  him:  but, 

Christian.  •.  •.  "     -.  ., 

my  good  companion,  do  you  know  the  way  to 
this  desired  place  ? 

CHR.  I  am  directed  by  a  man,  whose  name  is  Evangelist, 
to  speed  me  to  a  little  gate  that  is  before  us,  where  we  shall 
receive  instruction  about  the  way. 

PLI.     Come,  then,  good  neighbor,  let  us  be  going. 
Then  they  went  both  together. 

OBST.  And  I  will  go  back  to  my  place,  said 
Obstinate;  I  will  be  no  companion  of  such  mis- 
led, fantastical  fellows. 

Now  I   saw  in   mv   dream,  that  when  Ob- 

1  OIK  between 

Christian  and        stinate  was  gone  back,  Christian  and  Pliable 

Pliable. 

went  talking  over  the  plain;   and   thus   they 
began  their  discourse: 

CHR.  Come,  Neighbor  Pliable,  how  do  you  do?  I  am 
glad  you  are  persuaded  to  go  along  with  me.  Had  even 
Obstinate  himself  but  felt  what  I  have  felt  of  the  powers 
and  terrors  of  what  is  yet  unseen,  he  would  not  thus  lightly 
have  given  us  the  back. 


12  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

PLI.  Come,  Neighbor  Christian,  since  there  is  none  but 
us  two  here,  tell  me  now  further,  what  the  things  are,  and 
how  to  be  enjoyed,  whither  we  are  going? 

CHR.     I  can  better  conceive  of  them  with  my  mind  than 

speak  of  them  with  my  tongue:  but  yet,  since 

uwpeafable          vou  are  desirous  to  know,  I  will  read  of  them 

in  my  book. 

PLI.  And  do  you  think  that  the  words  of  your  book  are 
certainly  true? 

.  CHR.     Yes,  verily;  for  it  was  made  by  Him 

that  cannot  lie. 

PLI.     Well  said :  what  things  are  they  ? 

isa  xlv  17  CHR.     There  is  an  endless  kingdom  to  be 

inhabited,  and  everlasting  life  to  be  given  us, 

John  x.  27,  28,  29.  •    i     i  •        i      •    i  •        i 

that  we  may  inhabit  that  kingdom  forever. 
PLI.     Well  said;  and  what  else? 

CHR.     There  are  crowns  of  glorv  to  be  given 

2  Tim.  iv.  8. 

Rev.  Hi.  4.  us,  and  garments  that  will  make  us  shine  like 

Matt.  xiii.  43.          fl  •      .^       n  PI 

the  sun  in  the  firmament  of  heaven. 
PLI.     This  is  excellent;  and  what  else? 

CHR.     There  shall  be  no  more  crying,  nor 
Rev.  viL  16, 17.     sorrow ;  for  He  that  is  owner  of  the  place  will 

Chap.  xxi.  4.  .  ,,    ,  » 

wipe  all  tears  from  our  eyes. 
Pu.     And  what  company  shall  we  have  there? 

CHR.     There  we  shall  be  with  seraphims  and 

cherubims,  creatures  that  will  dazzle  your  eyes 
to  look  on  them.  There  also  you  shall  meet  with  thousands 

and  ten  thousands  that  have  gone  before  usi 
17.  to  that  place;  none  of  them  are  hurtful,  but; 

loving  and  holy;  every  one  walking  in  the  sight 
of  God,  and  standing  in  His  presence  with  acceptance  for- 
0  .  .  ever.  In  a  word,  there  we  shall  see  the  elders 

liev.  iv.  4. 

with  their  golden  crowns;   there  we  shall  see' 

Chap.  xiv.  1-5.  .      .  .11- 

the  holy  virgins  with  their  golden  harps;  then 

we  shall  see  men  that  by  the  world  were  cut  ii 

pieces,  burnt  in  flames,  eaten  of  beasts,  drowned  in  the  seas, 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  13 

for  the  love  that  they  bare  to  the  Lord  of  the  place,  all  well, 
and  clothed  with  immortality  as  with  a  gar- 

Cor.  v.  2,  3,  5. 

merit. 

PLI.  The  hearing  of  this  is  enough  to  ravish  one's  heart. 
But  are  these  things  to  be  enjoyed?  How  shall  we  get  to 
be  sharers  thereof? 

CHR.     The  Lord,  the  Governor  of  that  coun- 

i$a.  Iv.  1,  z. 

John  vii.  37.         try,  hath  recorded  that  in  this  book;  the  sub- 
Rev.  xxi.  6.  stance  of  which  is,Jf  we  be  truly  willing  to  have 

Chap.  xxii.  17.         .,  .„  ,  ..  p        i      > 

it,  he  will  bestow  it  upon  us  freely.j 

PLI.  Well,  my  good  companion,  glad  am  I  to  hear  of  these 
things.  Come  on,  let  us  mend  our  pace. 

CHR.  I  cannot  go  so  fast  as  I  would,  by  reason  of  this 
burden  that  is  upon  my  back. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  just  as  they  had  ended  this 
talk,  they  drew  near  to  a  very  miry  slough,  that  was  in  the 
midst  of  the  plain;  and  they  being  heedless, 
1  °J  did  both  fal1  suddenly  into  the  bog.  The  name 
of  the  slough  was  Despond.  Here  therefore 
they  wallowed  for  a  time,  being  grievously  bedaubed  with 
the  dirt;  and  Christian,  because  of  the  burden  that  was  on 
his  back,  began  to  sink  in  the  mire. 

PLI.  Then  said  Pliable,  Ah,  Neighbor  Christian,  where 
are  you  now  ? 

CHR.     Truly,  said  Christian,  I  do  not  know. 
PLI.     At  that  Pliable  began  to  be  offended,  and  angrily 
said  to  his  fellow,  Is  this  the  happiness  you  have  told  me 
all  this  while  of?     If  we  have  such  ill  speed  at 
to  bl  ™liabh!*h     our  first  setting  out,  what  may  we  expect  be- 
twixt this  and  our  journey's  end  ?     May  I  get 
out  again  with  my  life,  you  shall  possess  the  brave  country 
alone  for  me.     And  with  that  he  gave  a  desperate  struggle 
or  two,  and  got  out  of  the  mire  on  that  side  of  the  slough 
which  was  next  to  his  own  house.     So  away  he  went,  and 
Christian  saw  him  no  more. 

Wherefore  Christian  was  left  to  tumble  in  the  Slough  of 


14  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

Despond  alone:  but  still  he  endeavored  to  struggle  to  that 
side  of  the  slough  that  was  still  further  from 
k^eeks  still   his  own  house,  and  next  to  the  Wicket-gate; 


cause  of  the  burden  that  was  upon  his  back. 
But  I  beheld  in  my  dream  that  a  man  came  to  him,  whose 
name  was  Help,  and  asked  him  what  he  did  there. 

CHR.  Sir,  said  Christian,  I  was  bid  go  this  way  by  a  man 
called  Evangelist,  who  directed  me  also  to  yonder  gate,  that 
I  might  escape  the  wrath  to  come  ;  and  as  I  was  going  thither, 
I  fell  in  here. 

HELP.     But  why  did  you  not  look  for  the 

The  promises. 

steps  ? 

CHR.  Fear  followed  me  so  hard  that  I  fled  the  next  way, 
and  fell  in. 

Help  lifts  him  HELP.     Then,  said  he,  give  me  thy  hand  ! 

out-  So  he  gave  him  his  hand,  and  he  drew  him  out, 

and  set  him  upon  sound  ground,  and  bid  him 

Ps.  xl.  2. 

go  on  his  way. 

Then  I  stepped  to  him  that  plucked  him  out,  and  said, 

Sir,  wherefore  (since  over  this  place  is  the  way  from  the 

City  of  Destruction  to  yonder  gate)  is  it  that 

What  makes  the 

Slough  of  this  plat  is  not  mended,  that  poor  travellers 

might  go  thither  with  more  security  ?  And  he 
said  unto  me,  This  miry  slough  is  such  a  place  as  cannot  be 
mended;  it  is  the  descent  whither  the  scum  and  filth  that 
attends  conviction  for  sin  doth  continually  run,  and  therefore 
it  is  called  the  Slough  of  Despond;  for  still  as  the  sinner  is 
awakened  about  his  lost  condition,  there  ariseth  in  his  soul 
many  fears,  and  doubts,  and  discouraging  apprehensions, 
which  all  of  them  get  together,  and  settle  in  this  place. 
And  this  is  the  reason  of  the  badness  of  this  ground. 

It  is  not  the  pleasure  of  the  King  that  this 

place  should  remain  so  bad.     His  laborers  also 

have,  by  the  direction  of  His  Majesty's  surveyors,  been  for 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  15 

above  this  sixteen  hundred  years  employed  about  this  patch 
of  ground,  if  perhaps  it  might  have  been  mended:  yea,  and  to 
my  knowledge,  said  he,  here  hath  been  swallowed  up  at  least 
twenty  thousand  cart-loads,  yea,  millions  of  wholesome  in- 
structions, that  have  at  all  seasons  been  brought  from  all 
places  of  the  King's  dominions  (and  they  that  can  tell  say 
they  are  the  best  materials  to  make  good  ground  of  the  place), 
if  so  be  it  might  have  been  mended;  but  it  is  the  Slough  of 
Despond  still,  and  so  will  be,  when  they  have  done  what 
they  can. 

True,  there  are,  by  the  direction  of  the  Lawgiver,  certain 
good  and  substantial  steps,  placed  even  through  the  very 
The  romises  of  m^s^  °f  this  slough;  but  at  such  time  as  this 
forgiveness  and  place  doth  much  spue  out  its  filth,  as  it  doth 

acceptance  to  life 

by  faith  in  against  change  of  weather,  these  steps  are 

hardly  seen;  or  if  they  be,  men,  through  the 

dizziness  of  their  heads,  step  besides;  and  then  they  are 
bemired  to  purpose,  notwithstanding  the  steps 

1  5am.  xn.  23.  .  & 

be  there;   but  the  ground  is  good,  when  they 
are  once  got  in  at  the  gate. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  by  this  time  Pliable  was  got 
home  to  his  house  again.  So  his  neighbors  came  to  visit 

him;  and  some  of  them  called  him  wise  man 

Pliable  got  home  .  . 

and  is  visited  of     for  coming  back,  and  some  called  him  fool  for 

hazarding  himself  with  Christian:  others,  again, 

did  mock  at  his  cowardliness;  saying,  Surely,  since  you  began 

to  venture,  I  would  not  have  been  so  base  as  to  have  given 

out  for  a  few  difficulties.     So  Pliable  sat  sneak- 

II is  entertain-  . 

ment  by  them  at     mg  among  them.     But  at  last  he  got  more  con- 
fidence, and  then  they  all  turned  their  tails, 
and  began  to  deride  poor  Christian  behind  his  back.     And 
thus  much  concerning  Pliable. 

Now  as  Christian  was  walking  solitarily  by  himself,  he 
espied  one  afar  off  come  crossing  over  the  field  to  meet  him; 
and  their  hap  was  to  meet  just  as  they  were  crossing  the 


16  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

way  of  each  other.     The  gentleman's  name  that  met  him 
was  Mr.  Worldly-  Wiseman  :   he  dwelt  in  the  town  of  Car- 

nal-Policy, a  very  great  town,  and  also  hard 
Wiseman  *  by  from  whence  Christian  came.  This  man 
SkSfiS?  then  meeting  with  Christian,  and  having 

some  inkling  of  him,  —  for  Christian's  setting 
forth  from  the  City  of  Destruction  was  much  noised  abroad, 
not  only  in  the  town  where  he  dwelt,  but  also  it  began  to  be 
the  town  -talk  in  some  other  places,  —  Mr.  Worldly-  Wiseman 
therefore,  having  some  guess  of  him,  by  beholding  his  labori- 
ous going,  by  observing  his  sighs  and  groans,  and  the  like, 
began  thus  to  enter  into  some  talk  with  Christian. 

WORLD.     How    now,    good    fellow,    whither 
Mr.  Worldly-        away  after  this  burdened  manner? 


CHR-     A  burdened  manner  indeed,  as  ever 
I  think  poor  creature  had.     And  whereas  you 
ask  me,  Whither  away  ?     I  tell  you,  sir,  I  am  going  to  yon- 
der Wicket-gate  before  me;  for  there,  as  I  am  informed,  I 
shall  be  put  into  a  way  to  be  rid  of  my  heavy  burden. 
WORLD.     Hast  thou  a  wife  and  children  ? 

CHR.     Yes,   but  I   am    so   laden   with   this 

1  Cor.  vii.  29. 

burden  that  I  cannot  take  that  pleasure  in  them 
as  formerly:  methinks  I  am  as  if  I  had  none. 

WORLD.     Wilt  thou  hearken  to  me  if  I  give  thee  coun- 
sel? 

CHR.     If  it  be  good,  I  will;  for  I  stand  in  need  of  good 
counsel. 

WORLD.  I  would  advise  thee,  then,  that  thou  with  all 
speed  get  thyself  rid  of  thy  burden;  for  thou 
wilt  never  be  settled  in  thy  mind  till  then;  nor 

c££Ji£.  canst  thou  eni°y  the  benefits  °f  the  blessing 

which  God  hath  bestowed  upon  thee  till  then. 

CHR.     That  is  that  which  I  seek  for,  even  to  be  rid  of  this 

heavy  burden;  but  get  it  off  myself  I  cannot,  nor  is  there  a 

man  in  our  country  that  can  take  it  off  my  shoulders;  there- 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  17 

fore  am  I  going  this  way,  as  I  told  you,  that  I  may  be  rid  of 
my  burden. 

WORLD.  Who  bid  thee  go  this  way  to  be  rid  of  thy  bur- 
den? 

CHR.  A  man  that  appeared  to  me  to  be  a  very  great  and 
honorable  person;  his  name,  as  I  remember,  is  Evangelist. 

WORLD.  I  beshrew  him  for  his  counsel:  there  is  not  a 
more  dangerous  and  troublesome  way  in  the  world  than  is 
Mr  Worldl  ^at  *nto  w^ich  ne  hath  directed  thee;  and  that 
Wiseman  thou  shalt  find,  if  thou  wilt  be  ruled  by  his 

condemned  *•->.•* 

Evangelist's  counsel.  Thou  has  met  with  something  (as  I 
perceive)  already;  for  I  see  the  dirt  of  the 
Slough  of  Despond  is  upon  thee;  but  that  slough  is  the  be- 
ginning of  the  sorrows  that  do  attend  those  that  go  on  in 
that  way.  Hear  me,  I  am  older  than  thou  !  thou  art  like  to 
meet  with,  in  the  way  which  thou  goest,  wearisomeness, 
painfulness,  hunger,  perils,  nakedness,  sword,  lions,  dragons, 
darkness,  and,  in .  a  word,  death,  and  what  not  ?  These 
things  are  certainly  true,  having  been  confirmed  by  many 
testimonies.  And  why  should  a  man  so  carelessly  cast 
away  himself,  by  giving  heed  to  a  stranger  ? 

CHR.     Why,  sir,  this  burden  upon  my  back  is  more  terrible 
to  me  than  are  all  these  things  which  you  have 

The  frame  of  the  ° 

heart  of  young       mentioned;  nay,  methmks  I  care  not  what  I 

Christians.  .  ,  ,  IT  i 

meet  with  in  the  way,  so  be  1  can  also  meet 
with  deliverance  from  my  burden. 

WORLD.     How  earnest  thou  by  thy  burden  at  first? 
CHR.     By  reading  this  book  in  my  hand. 
WORLD.     I  thought  so;  and  it  is  happened  unto  thee  as 
to  other  weak  men,  who,  meddling  with  things 
Wiseman  does       too  high  for  them,  do  suddenly  fall  into  thy 
^hould^e  Serious   distractions ;   which   distractions   do   not   only 
tius'sttb0  unman  men  (as  thine  I  perceive  has  done  thee), 

but  they  run  them  upon  desperate  ventures,  to 
obtain  they  know  not  what. 


18  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

CHR.  I  know  what  I  would  obtain;  it  is  ease  for  my 
heavy  burden. 

WORLD.     But  why  wilt  thou  seek  for  ease  this  way,  seeing 

gj  many  dangers  attend  it?     Especially  since  (hadst  thou 

but  patience  to  hear  me)  I  could  direct  thee  to 

Worldly  prefers     the  obtaining  of  what  thou  desirest,  without 


tne  dangers  that  thou  in  this  way  wilt  run  thy- 

self into;  yea,  and  the  remedy  is  at  hand. 
Besides,  I  will  add,  that  instead  of  these  dangers,  thou  shalt 
meet  with  much  safety,  friendship,  and  content. 
CHR.  Pray,  sir,  open  this  secret  to  me. 
WORLD.  Why,  in  yonder  village  (the  village  is  named 
Morality)  there  dwells  a  gentleman,  whose  name  is  Legality, 
a  very  judicious  man,  and  a  man  of  a  very  good  name,  that 
has  skill  to  help  men  off  with  such  burdens  as  thine  are,  from 
their  shoulders:  yea,  to  my  knowledge  he  hath  done  a  great 
deal  of  good  this  way;  ay,  and  besides,  he  hath  skill  to  cure 
those  that  are  somewhat  crazed  in  their  wits  with  their 
burdens.  To  him,  as  I  said,  thou  mayest  go,  and  be  helped 
presently.  His  house  is  not  quite  a  mile  from  this  place,  and 
if  he  should  not  be  at  home  himself,  he  hath  a  pretty  young 
man  to  his  son,  whose  name  is  Civility,  that  can  do  it  (to 
speak  on)  as  well  as  the  old  gentleman  himself;  there,  I  say, 
thou  mayest  be  eased  of  thy  burden;  and  if  thou  art  not 
minded  to  go  back  to  thy  former  habitation,  as  indeed  I 
would  not  wish  thee,  thou  mayest  send  for  thy  wife  and 
children  to  thee  to  this  village,  where  there  are  houses  now 
stand  empty,  one  of  which  thou  mayest  have  at  reasonable 
rates;  provision  is  there  also  cheap  and  good;  and  that  which 
will  make  thy  life  the  more  happy  is,  to  be  sure  there  thou 
shalt  live  by  honest  neighbors,  in  credit  and  good  fashion. 

Now  was  Christian  somewhat  at  a  stand,  but 

presently  he  concluded:  If  this  be  true  which 
Wuxmans  ^njg   gentleman    hath    said,  my  wisest    course 

is  to  take  his  advice:  and  with  that  he  thus 
further  spoke. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  19 

CHR.     Sir,    which    is    my    way    to    this    honest    man's 
house  ? 

Mount  Sinai. 

WORLD.     Do  you  see  yonder  high  hill  ? 
CHR.     Yes,  very  well. 

WORLD.  By  that  hill  you  must  go,  and  the  first  house 
you  come  at  is  his. 

So  Christian  turned  out  of  his  way  to  go  to  Mr.  Legality's 

house  for  help;  but  behold,  when  he  was  got  now  hard  by 

the  hill,  it  seemed  so  high,  and  also  that  side 

Christian  afraid         *    •.     .1      .  ii  •  i        v  i    i 

that  Mount  Oi  it  that  was  next  the  wayside  did  hang  so 

annhLWhead/alL     much  over>  that  Christian  was  afraid  to  ven- 
ture further,   lest  the  hill   should  fall   on  his 
head;  wherefore  there  he  stood  still,  and  he  wot  not  what 
to  do.     Also  his  burden,  now,  seemed  heavier  to  him  than 
while  he  was   in   his  way.     There  came  also 
V^xvi'  18'       flashes  of  fire  out  of  the  hill,  that  made  Christian 
afraid  that  he  should  be  burned.     Here  there- 
fore he  sweat,  and  did  quake  for  fear.     And  now  he  began 
.  to  be  sorry  that  he  had  taken  Mr.  Worldly- 

Wiseman's   counsel.     And   with   that   he   saw 
Evangelist  coming  to  meet  him;  at  the  sight  also  of  whom  he 
began  to  blush  for  shame.     So  Evangelist  drew 

Evangelist  nndeth  i  i  •  i  •          i 

Christian  under  nearer  and  nearer;  and  coming  up  to  him,  he 
^looke™*'  looked  upon  him  with  a  severe  and  dreadful 
%faely  vpon  countenance,  and  thus  began  to  reason  with 

Christian : 

EVAN.  What  doest  thou  here,  Christian?  said  he:  at 
which  words  Christian  knew  not  what  to  answer:  wherefore 

at    present    he    stood    speechless    before    him. 

Evangelist  . 

reasons  afresh  Then  said  Evangelist  further,  Art  not  thou  the 
man  that  I  found  crying  without  the  walls  of 
the  City  of  Destruction  ? 

CHR.     Yes,  dear  sir,  I  am  the  man. 

EVAN.  Did  not  I  direct  thee  the  way  to  the  little  Wicket- 
gate? 

CHR.     Yes,  dear  sir,  said  Christian. 


20  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

EVAN.  How  is  it  then  that  thou  art  so  quickly  turned 
aside?  for  thou  art  now  out  of  the  way. 

CHR.  I  met  with  a  gentleman  so  soon  as  I  had,  got  over 
the  Slough  of  Despond,  who  persuaded  me  that  I  might,  in 
the  village  before  me,  find  a  man  that  could  take  off  my 
burden. 

EVAN.     What  was  he? 

CHR.  He  looked  like  a  gentleman,  and  talked  much  to 
me,  and  got  me  at  last  to  yield;  so  I  came  hither:  but  when 
I  beheld  this  hill,  and  how  it  hangs  over  the  way,  I  suddenly 
made  a  stand,  lest  it  should  fall  on  my  head. 

EVAN.     What  said  that  gentleman  to  you  ? 

CHR.  WThy,  he  asked  me  whither  I  was  going;  and  I  told 
him. 

EVAN.     And  what  said  he  then? 

CHR.  He  asked  me  if  I  had  a  family;  and  I  told  him. 
But,  said  I,  I  am  so  loaden  with  the  burden  that  is  on  my 
back  that  I  cannot  take  pleasure  in  them  as  formerly. 

EVAN.     And  what  said  he  then? 

CHR.  He  bid  me  with  speed  get  rid  of  my  burden ;  and  I 
told  him  'twas  ease  that  I  sought.  And  said  I,  I  am  there- 
fore going  to  yonder  gate,  to  receive  further  direction  how 
I  may  get  to  the  place  of  deliverance.  So  he  said  that  he 
would  show  me  a  better  way,  and  short,  not  so  attended 
with  difficulties  as  the  way,  sir,  that  you  set  me;  which  way, 
said  he,  will  direct  you  to  a  gentleman's  house  that  hath 
skill  to  take  off  these  burdens.  So  I  believed  him,  and 
turned  out  of  that  way  into  this,  if  haply  I  might  be  soon 
eased  of  my  burden.  But  when  I  came  to  this  place,  and 
beheld  things  as  they  are,  I  stopped  for  fear  (as  I  said)  of 
danger:  but  I  now  know  not  what  to  do. 

EVAN.     Then,  said  Evangelist,  stand  still  a  little,  that  I 

may  show  thee  the  words  of  God.     So  he  stood  trembling. 

25          Then  said  Evangelist,  "See  that  ye  refuse  not 

him  that  speaketh;  for  if  they  escaped  not  who 

refused  him  that  spake  on  earth,  much  more  shall  not  we 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  21 

escape,  if  we  turn  away  from  him  that  speaketh  from  heaven." 
Evangelist  ^e  sa^  moreover,  "Now  the  just  shall  live  by 

convinces  faith;  but  if  anv  man  draws  back,  my  soul  shall 

Christian  of 

his  error.  have  no  pleasure  in  him."  He  also  did  thus 

apply  them :  Thou  art  the  man  that  art  running 
into  this  misery,  thou  hast  begun  to  reject  the  counsel  of  the 
Most  High,  and  to  draw  back  thy  foot  from  the  way  of  peace, 
even  almost  to  the  hazarding  of  thy  perdition. 

Then  Christian  fell  down  at  his  foot  as  dead,  crying,  Woe 
is  me,  for  I  am  undone !  At  the  sight  of  which,  Evangelist 
caught  him  by  the  right  hand,  saying,  All  man- 
Mwiciii'.S.'  ner  °f  sm  and  blasphemies  shall  be  forgiven 
unto  men.  Be  not  faithless,  but  believing. 
Then  did  Christian  again  a  little  revive,  and  stood  up  trem- 
bling, as  at  first,  before  Evangelist. 

Then  Evangelist  proceeded,  saying,  Give  more  earnest 
heed  to  the  things  that  I  shall  tell  thee  of.  I  will  now  show 
Mr  Worldly-  *nee  wno  ^  was  that  deluded  thee,  and  who  it 
Wiseman  was  a]so  j-o  wnom  ne  sent  thee.  The  man  that 

described  by 

Evangelist.  met  thee  is  one  Worldly- Wiseman,  and  rightly 

is  he  so   called:  partly,   because  he  favoreth 

only  the  doctrine  of  this  world   (therefore  he 

always  goes  to  the  town  of  Morality  to  church) ;  and  partly, 

Gal.  vi  12  because  he  loveth  that  doctrine  best,   for  it 

saveth  him  from  the  Cross.     And  because  he 

Lvangelist 

discovers  the          is  of  this  carnal  temper,  therefore  he  seeketh 
Mr.  Worldly-        to  pervert  my  ways,  though  right.     Now  there 
are  three  things  in  this  man's  counsel  that  thou 
must  utterly  abhor: 

1.  His  turning  thee  out  of  the  way. 

2.  His  laboring  to  render  the  Cross  odious  to  thee. 

3.  And  his  setting  thy  feet  in  that  way  that  leadeth  unto 
he  administration  of  death.1 

1  When  Christians  unto  carnal  men  give  ear, 
Out  of  their  way  they  go,  and  pay  for't  dear; 
For  Master  Worldly- Wiseman  can  but  show 
A  saint  the  way  to  bondage  and  to  woe. 


22  THE  PILGRIM'S   PROGRESS 

First,  Thou  must  abhor  his  turning  thee  out  of  the  way; 

yea,  and  thine  own  consenting  thereto:  because  this  is  to 

reject  the  counsel  of  God  for  the  sake  of  the  counsel  of  a 

Lukexiii  24         Worldly- Wiseman.     The  Lord  says,  "Strive  to 

enter  in  at  the  strait  gate,"  the  gate  to  which 

Matt.  vii.  13,  14.     j  gent  thee.  for?  «gtrait  ig  the  gate  that  leadeth 

unto  life,  and  few  there  be  that  find  it."  From  this  little 
Wicket-gate,  and  from  the  way  thereto,  hath  this  wicked 
man  turned  thee,  to  the  bringing  of  thee  almost  to  destruc- 
tion; hate  therefore  his  turning  thee  out  of  the  way,  and 
abhor  thyself  for  hearkening  to  him. 

Secondly,  Thou  must  abhor  his  laboring  to  render  the 
Cross  odious  unto  thee:  for  thou  art  to  prefer  it  "before  the 
Heb  xi  25  26  treasures  in  Egypt."  Besides,  the  King  of 
Mark  viii. 35.  Glory  hath  told  thee,  that  "he  that  will  save 
Matt.  x.  39.  his  life  shall  lose  it":  and  "he  that  comes  after 
him,  and  hates  not  his  father,  and  mother,  and 
wife,  and  children,  and  brethren,  and  sisters,  yea,  and  his 
own  life  also,  he  cannot  be  my  disciple."  I  say  therefore, 
for  a  man  to  labor  to  persuade  thee,  that  that  shall  be  thy 
death,  without  which  the  truth  hath  said  thou  canst  not  have 
eternal  life;  This  doctrine  thou  must  abhor. 

Thirdly,  Thou  must  hate  his  setting  of  thy  feet  in  the  way 
that  leadeth  to  the  ministration  of  death.  And  for  this  thou 
must  consider  to  whom  he  sent  thee,  and  also  how  unable 
that  person  was  to  deliver  thee  from  thy  burden. 

He  to  whom  thou  wast  sent  for  ease  being  by  name  Le- 
gality, is  the  son  of  the  bondwoman  which  now  is,  and  is  in 
bondage  with  her  children;  and  is,  in  a  mvs- 

T he  bond- 
woman, tery,  this  Mount  Sinai,  which  thou  hast  feared 

will  fall  on  thy  head.  Now  if  she  with  her 
children  are  in  bondage,  how  canst  thou  expect  by  them  to 
be  made  free?  This  Legality  therefore  is  not  able  to  set 
thee  free  from  thy  burden.  No  man  was  as  yet  ever  rid  of 
his  burden  by  him,  no,  nor  ever  is  like  to  be;  ye  cannot  be 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  23 

justified  by  the  works  of  the  law;  for  by  the  deeds  of  the 
law  no  man  living  can  be  rid  of  his  burden;  therefore,  Mr. 
Worldly- Wiseman  is  an  alien,  and  Mr.  Legality  a  cheat;  and 
for  his  son  Civility,  notwithstanding  his  simpering  looks,  he 
is  but  a  hypocrite,  and  cannot  help  thee.  Believe  me,  there 
is  nothing  in  all  this  noise,  that  thou  hast  heard  of  these 
sottish  men,  but  a  design  to  beguile  thee  of  thy  salvation, 
by  turning  thee  from  the  wray  in  which  I  had  set  thee.  After 
this  Evangelist  called  aloud  to  the  heavens  for  confirmation 
of  what  he  had  said ;  and  with  that  there  came  words  and  fire 
out  of  the  mountain  under  which  poor  Christian  stood,  that 
made  the  hair  of  his  flesh  stand  up.  The  words  were  thus 
pronounced,  "As  many  as  are  of  the  works  of 

Gal.  in.  10.  11  •      • 

the  law  are  under  the  curse;  for  it  is  written, 
Cursed  is  every  one  that  continueth  not  in  all  things  which 
are  written  in  the  book  of  the  law  to  do  them." 

Now  Christian  looked  for  nothing  but  death,  and  began 
to  cry  out  lamentably,  even  cursing  the  time  in  which  he 
met  with  Mr.  Worldly- Wiseman,  still  calling  himself  a  thou- 
sand fools  for  hearkening  to  his  counsel:  he  also  was  greatly 
ashamed  to  think  that  this  gentleman's  arguments,  flowing 
only  from  the  flesh,  should  have  that  prevalency  with  him, 
to  forsake  the  right  way.  This  done,  he  applied  himself 
again  to  Evangelist  in  words  and  sense  as  follows: 

CHR.     Sir,  what  think  you?  is  there  hopes?  may  I  now 
go  back  and  go  up  to  the  Wicket-gate  ?     Shall 
ianif  he        I  not   be  abandoned   for  this,  and  sent  back 
from    thence   ashamed?      I  am  sorry  I  have 
hearkened  to  this  man's  counsel:  but  may  my 
be  forgiven? 

EVAN.     Then   said  Evangelist  to  him,   Thy  sin  is  very 
great,  for  by  it  thou  hast  committed  two  evils: 
thou  hast  forsaken  the  way  that  is  good,  to 
tread   in   forbidden   paths;   yet   will   the   man 
at   the  gate   receive   thee,   for   he   has   good-will   for   men; 


24  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

only,  said   he,  take  heed  that  thou  turn  not  aside  again, 

"lest  thou  perish  from  the  way,  when  his  wrath  is  kindled 

but  a  little."       Then    did    Christian    address 

Ps.  it.  last. 

himself  to  go  back;  and  Evangelist,  after  he 
had  kissed  him,  gave  him  one  smile,  and  bid  him  God- 
speed. So  he  went  on  with  haste,  neither  spake  he  to 
any  man  by  the  way;  nor  if  any  asked  him,  would  he 
vouchsafe  them  an  answer.  He  went  like  one  that  was  all 
the  while  treading  on  forbidden  ground,  and  could  by  no 
means  think  himself  safe,  till  again  he  was  got  into  the  way 
which  he  left  to  follow  Mr.  Worldly- Wiseman's  counsel.  So 
in  process  of  time  Christian  got  up  to  the  gate.  Now 
over  the  gate  there  was  written,  "Knock  and 
it  shall  be  opened  unto  you/'  He  knocked 
therefore,  more  than  once  or  twice,1  saying : 

May  I  now  enter  here?     Will  he  within 
Open  to  sorry  me,  though  I  have  been 
An  undeserving  rebel?     Then  shall  I 
Not  fail  to  sing  his  lasting  praise  on  high. 

At  last  there  came  a  grave  person  to  the  gate  named  Good- 
will, who  asked  who  was  there?  and  whence  he  came?  and 
what  he  would  have? 

CHR.  Here  is  a  poor  burdened  sinner.  I  come  from  the 
City  of  Destruction,  but  am  going  to  Mount  Zion,  that  I 
may  be  delivered  from  the  wrath  to  come.  I  would  there- 
fore, sir,  since  I  am  informed  that  by  this  gate  is  the  way 
thither,  know  if  you  are  willing  to  let  me  in. 

GOOD-WILL.     I  am  willing  with  all  my  heart, 

The  gate  will  be 

opened  to  broken-   said  he;  and  with  that  he  opened  the  gate. 

hearted  sinners.  ~          ,  ~,     .      .  •         •        .1          ,  i 

So  when  Christian  was  stepping  in,  the  other 
gave  him  a  pull.     Then  said  Christian,  What  means  that? 

1  He  that  will  enter  in  must  first,  without 
Stand  knocking  at  the  gate,  nor  need  he  doubt 
That  is  a  knocker  but  to  enter  In; 
For  God  can  love  him,  and  forgive  his  sin. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  25 

The  other  told  him,  A  little  distance  from  this  gate,  there  is 

erected  a  strong  castle,  of  which  Beelzebub  is 

those  \hatlenter      the  captain;  from  thence  both  he  and  them  that 

the  Strait  Gate.        ^  w^  h|m  sho()t  am)WS   at  those  that  come 

up  to  this  gate,  if  haply  they  may  die  before 
they  can  enter  in.     Then  said  Christian,  I  re- 
am* trembling.       joice  ^  trembje      So  when  he  was  got  in,  the 

man  of  the  gate  asked  him  who  directed  him  thither. 

CHR.     Evangelist  bid  me  come  hither  and 

Talk  between  _  .,         T     T  i\  11  •  i     ,1      , 

Good-will  and  knock  (as  I  did)  ;  and  he  said  that  you,  sir, 
would  tell  me  what  I  must  do. 

GOOD-WILL.  An  open  door  is  set  before  thee,  and  no  man 
can  shut  it. 

CHR.     Now  I  begin  to  reap  the  benefits  of  my  hazards. 

GOOD-  WILL.     But  how  is  it  that  you  came  alone? 

CHR.  Because  none  of  my  neighbors  saw  their  danger, 
as  I  saw  mine. 

GOOD-  WILL.     Did  any  of  them  know  of  your  coming? 

CHR.  Yes,  my  wife  and  children  saw  me  at  the  first,  and 
called  after  me  to  turn  again;  also  some  of  my  neighbors 
stood  crying,  and  calling  after  me  to  return;  but  I  put  my 
fingers  in  my  ears,  and  so  came  on  my  way. 

GOOD-WILL.  But  did  none  of  them  follow  you,  to  per- 
suade you  to  go  back? 

CHR.  Yes,  both  Obstinate  and  Pliable;  but  when  they 
saw  that  they  could  not  prevail,  Obstinate  went  railing 
back,  but  Pliable  came  with  me  a  little  way. 

GOOD-WILL.     But  why  did  he  not  come  through? 

C|HR.  We  indeed  came  both  together,  until  we  came  at 
the  Slough  of  Despond,  into  the  which  we  also  suddenly  fell. 


A  man  ma  have  tnen  was  my  neighbor  Pliable  discouraged, 

company  when       anc[  would  not  adventure  further.     Wherefore 

he  sets  out  for  .  . 

heaven,  and  yet      getting  out  again  on  that  side  next  to  his  own 
house,  he  told  me  I  should  possess  the  brave 
country  alone  for  him;  so  he  went  his  way,  and  I  came  mine: 
he  after  Obstinate,  and  I  to  this  gate. 


26  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

GOOD-WILL.  Then  said  Good-will,  Alas !  poor  man,  is  the 
celestial  glory  of  so  small  esteem  with  him  that  he  counteth 
it  not  worth  running  the  hazards  of  a  few  difficulties  to 
obtain  it? 

CHR.     Truly,   said   Christian,   I   have  said  the   truth  of 
Pliable;  and  if  I  should  also  say  all  the  truth  of  myself,  it 
will  appear  there  is  no  betterment  'twixt  him 
kimtelf     and  myself.     'Tis  true,  he  went  back  to  his 
n       own  house,  but  I  also  turned  aside  to  go  in 
the  way  of  death,  being  persuaded  thereto  by 
the  carnal  arguments  of  one  Mr.  Worldly- Wiseman. 

GOOD- WILL.  Oh,  did  he  light  upon  you  ?  What !  he 
would  have  had  you  a  sought  for  ease  at  the  hands  of  Mr. 
Legality.  They  are  both  of  them  a  very  cheat;  but  did  you 
take  his  counsel? 

CHR.  Yes,  as  far  as  I  durst:  I  went  to  find  out  Mr. 
Legality,  until  I  thought  that  the  mountain  that  stands  by 
his  house  would  have  fallen  upon  my  head ;  wherefore  there 
I  was  forced  to  stop. 

GOOD-WILL.  That  mountain  has  been  the  death  of  many, 
and  will  be  the  death  of  many  more;  'tis  well  you  escaped 
being  by  it  dashed  in  pieces. 

CHR.  Why,  truly  I  do  not  know  what  had  become  of  me 
there,  had  not  Evangelist  happily  met  me  again,  as  I  was 
musing  in  the  midst  of  my  dumps:  but  'twas  God's  mercy 
that  he  came  to  me  again,  for  else  I  had  never  come  hither. 
But  now  I  am  come,  such  a  one  as  I  am,  more  fit  indeed  for 
death  by  that  mountain  than  thus  to  stand  talking  with  my 
Lord;  but  oh,  what  a  favor  is  this  to  me,  that  yet  I  am 
admitted  entrance  here ! 

Christian  GOOD-WILL.     We  make  no  objections  against 

comforted  again.     any>  notwithstanding  all  that  they  have  done 
before  they  come  hither,  they  in  no  wise  are 
cast  out;  and  therefore,  good  Christian,  come  a  little  way  with 
me,  and  I  will  teach  thee  about  the  way  thou  must  go.     Look 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  27 

before  thee;  dost  thou  see  this  narrow  way?     THAT  is  the 
way  thou  must  go;  it  was  cast  up  by  the  pa- 

Chnstian  .  .  . 

directed  yet  on       tnarchs,    prophets,    Christ,    and    his    apostles; 
and  it  is  as  straight  as  a  rule  can  make  it:  This 
is  the  way  thou  must  go. 

CHR.     But,    said    Christian,    are    there    no 

Christian  afraid 

of  losing  his          turnings  nor  windings  by  which  a  stranger  may 

way.  ,  -  „ 

lose  the  way? 

GOOD-WILL.     Yes,  there  are  many  ways  BUTT  down  upon 

this,  and  they  are  crooked,  and  wide;  but  thus  thou  mayest 

distinguish  the  right  from  the  wrong,  the  right 

Matt.  vti.  14.  . 

only  being  straight  and  narrow. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream  that  Christian  asked  him  further 
if  he  could  not  help  him  off  with  his  burden 

that  was  up°n  nis  back; for  as  vet  ne  had  not 

got  rid  thereof,  nor  could  he  by  any  means  get 
it  off  without  help. 

There  is  no  ^e  ^°^  him>  As  to  thy  burden,  be  content  to 

deliverance  from     ^ear  ft    until  thou  comest  to  the  place  of  de- 

the  guilt  and  * 

burden  of  sin        liverance;  for  there  it  will  fall  from  thy  back 

but  by  the  death       , 

and  blood  of  itself. 

Then  Christian  began  to  gird  up  his  loins, 
and  to  address  himself  to  his  journey.  So  the  other  told 
him  that  by  that  he  was  gone  some  distance  from  the  gate, 
he  would  come  at  the  house  of  the  Interpreter,  at  whose 
door  he  should  knock,  and  he  would  show  him  excellent 
things.  Then  Christian  took  his  leave  of  his  friend,  and  he 
again  bid  him  Godspeed. 
„,  . ..  Then  he  went  on  till  he  came  at  the  house 

Christian  comes 

to  the  house  of       of  the  Interpreter,  where  he  knocked  over  and 

the  Interpreter.  .11  j        i      j 

over;  at  last  one  came  to  the  door,  and  asked 
Who  was  there? 

CHR.  Sir,  here  is  a  traveller,  who  was  bid  by  an  acquaint- 
ance of  the  goodman  of  this  house  to  call  here  for  my  profit; 
I  would  therefore  speak  with  the  master  of  the  house.  So 


28  THE  xILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

he  called  for  the  master  of  the  house,  who  after  a  little  time 
came  to  Christian,  and  asked  him  what  he  would  have. 

CHR.     Sir,  said  Christian,  I  am  a  man  that  am  come  from 
the  City  of  Destruction,  and  am  going  to  the  Mount  Zion; 

and  I  was  told  by  the  man,  that  stands  at  the 
entertained  gate,  at  the  head  of  this  way,  that  if  I  called 

here,  you  would  show  me  excellent  things,  such 
as  would  be  a  help  to  me  in  my  journey. 

INTER.     Then  said  the  Interpreter,  Come  in,  I  will  show 
thee  that  which  will  be  profitable  to  thee.     So  he  commanded 

his  man  to  light  the  candle,  and  bid  Christian 

Illumination.  iiii«- 

follow  him:  so  he  had  him  into  a  private  room, 
and  bid  his  man  open  a  door;  the  which  when  he  had  done, 

Christian  saw  the  picture  of  a  very  grave  per- 
a     son  hung  up  against  the  wall;  and  this  was  the 
f      fashion  of  it:  It  had  eyes  lifted  up  to  heaven, 

the  best  of  books  in  his  hand,  the  law  of  truth 
was  written  upon  his  lips,  the  world  was  behind  his  back;  it 
stood  as  if  it  pleaded  with  men,  and  a  crown  of  gold  did  hang 
over  its  head. 

CHR.     Then  said  Christian,  What  means  this  ? 
INTER.     The  man  whose  picture  this  is,  is  one  of  a  thou- 
sand; he  can  beget  children,  travail  in  birth 
Gal.  iv.  19.  with  children,  and  nurse  them  himself  when 

they  are  born.  And  whereas  thou  seest  him 
with  his  eyes  lift  up  to  heaven,  the  best  of  books  in  his  hand, 
and  the  law  of  truth  writ  on  his  lips,  it  is  to  show  thee  that 
his  work  is  to  know  and  unfold  dark  things  to  sinners;  even 
as  also  thou  seest  him  stand  as  if  he  pleaded  with  men;  And 

whereas  thou  seest  the  world  as  cast  behind 
™ep™u™ng°f  nim»  and  that  a  crown  hangs  over  his  head, 

that  is  to  show  thee  that  slighting  and  despis- 
ing the  things  that  are  present,  for  the  love  that  he  hath  to 
his  Master's  service,  he  is  sure  in  the  world  that  comes  next 
to  have  glory  for  his  reward.  Now,  said  the  Interpreter,  I 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  29 

have  showed  thee  this  picture  first,  because  the  man  whose 

picture  this  is,  is  the  only  man  whom  the  Lord  of  the  place 

whither  thou  art  going  hath  authorized  to  be 

Why  he  showed  .  ° 

him  me  picture  thy  guide  in  all  difficult  places  thou  mayest 
meet  with  in  the  way;  wherefore  take  good 
heed  to  what  I  have  showed  thee,  and  bear  well  in  thy  mind 
what  thou  hast  seen,  lest  in  thy  journey  thou  meet  with 
some  that  pretend  to  lead  thee  right,  but  their  way  goes 
down  to  death. 

.Then  he  took  him  by  the  hand,  and  led  him  into  a  very 
large  parlor  that  was  full  of  dust,  because  never  swept;  the 
which,  after  he  had  reviewed  a  little  while,  the  Interpreter 
called  for  a  man  to  sweep.  Now  when  he  began  to  sweep, 
the  dust  began  so  abundantly  to  fly  about,  that  Christian 
had  almost  therewith  been  choked.  Then  said  the  Inter- 
preter to  a  damsel  that  stood  by,  Bring  hither  the  water,  and 
sprinkle  the  room;  the  which  when  she  had  done,  it  was 
swept  and  cleansed  with  pleasure. 

CHR.     Then  said  Christian,  What  means  this? 

INTER.  The  Interpreter  answered,  This  parlor  is  the 
heart  of  a  man  that  was  never  sanctified  by  the  sweet  grace 
of  the  gospel:  the  dust  is  his  original  sin,  and  inward  corrup- 
tions that  have  defiled  the  whole  man.  He  that  began  to 
sweep  at  first,  is  the  Law;  but  she  that  brought  water,  and 
did  sprinkle  it,  is  the  Gospel.  Now,  whereas  thou  sawest 
that  so  soon  as  the  first  began  to  sweep,  the  dust  did  so  fly 
about  that  the  room  by  him  could  not  be  cleansed,  but  that 
thou  wast  almost  choked  therewith;  this  is  to  show  thee,  that  . 
the  Law,  instead  of  cleansing  the  heart  (by  its 

horn.  im.  6. 

i  for.  xv.  56.        working)   from  sin,  doth  revive,  put  strength 

Rom.  v.  20.  .  ,  .  .     .        ,  .  .      ,      , 

into,  and  increase  it  in  the  soul,  even  as  it  doth 
discover  and  forbid  it,  but  doth  not  give  power  to  subdue. 

Again,  as  thou  sawest  the  damsel  sprinkle  the  room  with 
water,  upon  which  it  was  cleansed  with  pleasure;  that  is  to 
show  thee  that  when  the  gospel  comes  in  the  sweet  and 


30  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

precious  influences  thereof  to  the  heart,  then  I  say,  even 
John  xv  3  as  thou   sawest  the  damsel   lay  the  dust   by 

Epk.  v.  26.  sprinkling  the  floor  with  water,  so  is  sin  van- 

Acts  xv,  9. 

Rom.  xvi.  25,  26.    quished  and  subdued,  and  the  soul  made  clean, 
through  the   faith  of  it,  and  consequently  fit 

for  the  King  of  Glory  to  inhabit. 

I  saw  moreover  in  my  dream,  that  the  Interpreter  took 

him  by  the  hand,  and  had  him  into  a  little  room,  where  sat 
two  little  children,  each  one  in  his  chair.     The 

He  snowed  him 

Passion  and          name  of  the  eldest  was  Passion,  and  the  name 
of  the  other  Patience.     Passion  seemed  to  be 
much  discontent;  but  Patience  was  very  quiet.     Then  Chris- 
tian asked,  What  is  the  reason  of  the  discontent  of  Passion  ? 
The    interpreter    answered,    The    governor    of 
hav^aUnow.         them  would  have  him  stay  for  his  best  things 
til1  the  beginning  of  the  next  year;  but  he  will 
have  all  now,  .but  Patience  is  willing  to  wait. 
Then  I  saw  that  one  came  to  Passion,  and 
brought  him  a  bag  of  treasure,  and  poured  it 
down  at  his  feet,  the  which  he  took  up  and  re- 
joiced therein;  and  withal,   laughed  Patience 

to   SCOrn*      But   l   beheld   but   a   while>    and    he 

had  lavished  all  away,  and  had  nothing  left 
him  but  rags. 

CHR.     Then  said  Christian  to  the  Interpreter,  Expound 
this  matter  more  fully  to  me. 

INTER.     So  he  said,  These  two  lads  are  figures:  Passion, 

of  the  men  of  this  world;  and  Patience,  of  the  men  of  that 

which  is  to  come;  for  as  here  thou  seest,  Pas- 

Jxpo™nded.  s*°n  W^l  bave  a^  n°W'  tn*S  vear»  tnat  is  to  sav» 

in  this  world;  so  are  the  men  of  this  world: 
they  must  have  all  their  good  things  now,  they  cannot  stay 
till  next  year,  that  is,  until  the  next  world,  for  their  portion 
of  good.  That  proverb,  "A  bird  in  the  hand  is  worth  two 
in  the  bush,"  is  of  more  authority  with  them  than  are  all 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  31 

the  divine  testimonies  of  the  good  of  the  world  to  come. 
But  as  thou  sawest  that  he  had  quickly  lav- 

The  worldly  man     .  " 

/or  a  bird  in  the     ished    all   away,   and   had   presently    lett   aim 
nothing  but  rags,  so  will  it  be  with  all  such 

men  at  the  end  of  this  world. 

CHR.     Then  said  Christian,  Now  I  see  that  Patience  has 

the  best  wisdom,  and  that  upon  many  accounts.     (1)  Be- 
cause he  stays  for  the  best  things;  (2)  and  also 

b^isdom.  the     because  he  will  have  the  glory  of  his,  when  the 

other  hath  nothing  but  rags. 
INTER.     Nay,  you  may  add  another,  to  wit,  the  glory  of 

the  next  world  will  never  wear  out;  but  these  are  suddenly 
gone.     Therefore    Passion    had    not    so    much 

Things  that  are 

first  must  give        reason  to  laugh  at  Patience,  because  he  had  his 

place;  but  things  . 

that  are  last  are     good  things  first,  as  Patience  will  have  to  laugh 
at  Passion,  because  he  had  his  best  things  last; 
for  first  must  give  place  to  last,  because  last  must  have  his 
time  to  come:  but  last  gives  place  to  nothing,  for  there  is  not 
another  to  succeed.     He  therefore  that  hath  his  portion  first, 
must  needs  have  a  time  to  spend  it;  but  he  that  has  his  por- 
tion last,  must  have  it  lastingly.     Therefore  it 

LiUke  xin. 

Dives  had  his        is  said  of  Dives,  "In  thy  lifetime  thou  receivedst 

thy    good    things,    and   likewise   Lazarus  evil 

things;  but  now  he  is  comforted,  and  thou  art  tormented." 

CHR.     Then  I  perceive  'tis  not  best  to  covet  things  that 

are  now,  but  to  wait  for  things  to  come. 

INTER.     You  say  truth:  "For  the  things  that  are  seen  are 

temporal;  but  the  things  that  are  not  seen  are  eternal."     But 

though  this  be  so,  yet  since  things  present,  and 

The  first  things      our  fleshly  appetite,  are  such  near  neighbors 

are  but  temporal.  . ,  .        ,  , ,  . 

one  to  another;  and  again,  because  things  to 

come,  and  carnal  sense,  are  such  strangers  one  to  another: 

therefore  it  is  that  the  first  of  these  so  suddenly  fall  into 

amity,  and  that  distance  is  so  continued  between  the  second. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  the  Interpreter  took  Chris- 


32  THE   PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

tian  by  the  hand  and  led  him  into  a  place  where  was  a  fire 
burning  against  a  wall,  and  one  standing  by  it  always,  cast- 
ing much  water  upon  it,  to  quench  it;  yet  did  the  fire  burn 
higher  and  hotter. 

Then  said  Christian,  What  means  this? 

The  Interpreter  answered,  This  fire  is  the  work  of  grace 
that  is  wrought  in  the  heart;  he  that  casts  water  upon  it,  to 
extinguish  and  put  it  out,  is  the  devil;  but  if  that  thou  seest 
the  fire  notwithstanding  burn  higher  and  hotter,  thou  shalt 
also  see  the  reason  of  that.  So  he  had  him  about  to  the 
back  side  of  the  wall,  where  he  saw  a  man  with  a  vessel  of  oil 
in  his  hand,  of  the  which  he  did  also  continually  cast,  but 
secretly,  into  the  fire. 

Then  said  Christian,  What  means  this?     The  Interpreter 

answered,  This  is  Christ,  who  continually,  with  the  oil  of 

His  grace,  maintains  the  work  already  begun  in  the  heart: 

by  the  means  of  which,  notwithstanding  what  the  devil  can 

do,  the  souls  of  His  people  prove  gracious  still. 

And  in  that  thou  sawest  that  the  man  stood 

behind  the  wall  to  maintain  the  fire,  this  is  to  teach  thee  that 

it  is  hard  for  the  tempted  to  see  how  this  work  of  grace  is 

maintained  in  the  soul. 

I  saw  also  that  the  Interpreter  took  him  again  by  the  hand, 
and  led  him  into  a  pleasant  place,  where  was  builded  a  stately 
palace,  beautiful  to  behold;  at  the  sight  of  which  Christian 
was  greatly  delighted.  He  saw  also  upon  the  top  thereof 
certain  persons  walking,  who  were  clothed  all  in  gold.  Then 
said  Christian,  May  we  go  in  thither  ?  Then  the  Interpreter 
took  him,  and  led  him  up  towards  the  door  of  the  palace;  and 
behold,  at  the  door  stood  a  great  company  of  men,  as  de- 
sirous to  go  in,  but  durst  not.  There  also  sat  a  man,  at  a 
little  distance  from  the  door,  at  a  table-side,  with  a  book, 
and  his  inkhorn  before  him,  to  take  the  name  of  him  that 
should  enter  therein.  He  saw  also,  that  in  the  doorway 
stood  many  men  in  armor  to  keep  it,  being  resolved  to  do  to 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  33 

the  men  that  enter  what  hurt  and  mischief  they  could.  Now 
was  Christian  somewhat  in  amaze.  At  last,  when  every 
man  started  back  for  fear  of  the  armed  men,  Christian  saw  a 

man  of  a  very  stout  countenance  come  up  to 
^nvdiani  the  man  that  sat  there  to  write,  saying,  Set 

down  my  name,  sir:  the  which  when  he  had 
done,  he  saw  the  man  draw  his  sword,  and  put  a  helmet  upon 
his  head,  and  rush  toward  the  door  upon  the  armed  men, 
who  laid  upon  him  with  deadly  force;  but  the  man,  not  at 
all  discouraged,  fell  to  cutting  and  hacking  most  fiercely. 
So,  after  he  had  received  and  given  many  wounds  to  those 

that  attempted  to  keep  him  out,  he  cut  his 

Acts  xiv.  22. 

way  through  them  all,  and  pressed  forward 
into  the  palace;  at  which  there  was  a  pleasant  voice  heard 
from  those  that  were  within,  even  of  those  that  walked  upon 
the  top  of  the  palace,  saying — 

Come  in,  come  in; 

Eternal  glory  thou  shalt  win. 

So  he  went  in,  and  was  clothed  with  such  garments  as  they. 
Then  Christian  smiled,  and  said,  I  think  verily  I  know  the 
meaning  of  this. 

Now,  said  Christian,  let  me  go  hence.     Nay,  stay,  said 

the  Interpreter,  till  I  have  showed  thee  a  little 

{Jjf'JjJ!*1  an     more,  and  after  that  thou  shalt  go  on  thy  way. 

So  he  took  him  by  the  hand  again,  and   led 

him  into  a  very  dark  room,  where  there  sat  a  man  in  an 

iron  cage. 

Now  the  man,  to  look  on,  seemed  very  sad.  He  sat  with 
his  eyes  looking  down  to  the  ground,  his  hands  folded  to- 
gether; and  he  sighed  as  if  he  would  break  his  heart.  Then 
said  Christian,  What  means  this  ?  At  which  the  Interpreter 
bid  him  talk  with  the  man. 

CHR.  Then  said  Christian  to  the  man,  What  art  thou? 
The  man  answered,  I  am  what  I  was  not  once. 


34  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

CHR.     What  wast  thou  once? 

MAN.     The  man  said,  I  was  once  a  fair  and 

Luke  mn.  13. 

flourishing  professor,  both  in  mine  own  eyes, 
and  also  in  the  eyes  of  others :  I  once  was,  as  I  thought,  fair 
for  the  Celestial  City,  and  had  then  even  joy  at  the  thoughts 
that  I  should  get  thither. 

CHR.     Well,  but  what  art  thou  now? 

MAN.  I  am  now  a  man  of  despair,  and  am  shut  up  in  it, 
as  in  this  iron  cage.  I  cannot  get  out;  Oh,  now  I  cannot. 

CHR.     But  how  earnest  thou  in  this  condition  ? 

MAN.  I  left  off  to  watch  and  be  sober;  I  laid  the  reins 
upon  the  neck  of  my  lusts;  I  sinned  against  the  light  of  the 
Word,  and  the  goodness  of  God;  I  have  grieved  the  Spirit, 
and  he  is  gone;  I  tempted  the  devil,  and  he  is  come  to  me; 
I  have  provoked  God  to  anger,  and  he  has  left  me;  I  have  so 
hardened  my  heart,  that  I  cannot  repent. 

Then  said  Christian  to  the  Interpreter,  But  is  there  no 
hopes  for  such  a  man  as  this?  Ask  him,  said  the  Inter- 
preter. 

CHR.  Then  said  Christian,  Is  there  no  hope  but  you 
must  be  kept  in  this  iron  cage  of  despair? 

MAN.     No,  none  at  all. 

CHR.     Why  ?  the  Son  of  the  Blessed  is  very  pitiful. 
Heb.  vi.  6.  MAN.     I  have  crucified  him  to  myself  afresh, 

I  have  despised  his  person,  I  have  despised  his 

Luke  xix.  14.  ,  .      ,  , 

righteousness,  1  have  counted  his  blood  an 
unholy  thing;  I  have  done  despite  to  the  Spirit 
of  Grace:  therefore  I  have  shut  myself  out  of  all  the  promises, 
and  there  now  remains  to  me  nothing  but  threatenings, 
dreadful  threatenings,  fearful  threatenings  of  certain  judg- 
ment and  fiery  indignation,  which  shall  devour  me  as  an 
adversary. 

CHR.     For  what  did  you  bring  yourself  into  this  condition  ? 

MAN.  For  the  lusts,  pleasures,  and  profits  of  this  world; 
in  the  enjoyment  of  which  I  did  then  promise  myself  much 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  35 

delight;  but  now  every  one  of  those  things  also  bite  me,  and 
gnaw  me  like  a  burning  worm. 

CHR.     But  canst  thou  not  now  repent  and  turn  ? 

MAN.  God  hath  denied  me  repentance:  his  Word  gives 
me  no  encouragement  to  believe;  yea,  himself  hath  shut  me 
up  in  this  iron  cage;  nor  can  all  the  men  in  the  world  let  me 
out.  O  eternity !  eternity !  how  shall  I  grapple  with  the 
misery  that  I  must  meet  with  in  eternity ! 

INTER.  Then  said  the  Interpreter  to  Christian,  Let  this 
man's  misery  be  remembered  by  thee,  and  be  an  everlasting 
caution  to  thee. 

CHR.  Well,  said  Christian,  this  is  fearful;  God  help  me  to 
watch  and  be  sober,  and  to  pray  that  I  may  shun  the  cause 
of  this  man's  misery.  Sir,  is  it  not  time  for  me  to  go  on  my 
way  now? 

INTER.  Tarry  till  I  shall  show  thee  one  thing  more,  and 
then  thou  shalt  go  on  thy  way. 

So  he  took  Christian  by  the  hand  again,  and  led  him  into 
a  chamber,  where  there  was  one  rising  out  of  bed;  and  as  he 
put  on  his  raiment,  he  shook  and  trembled.  Then  said 
Christian,  Why  doth  this  man  thus  tremble?  The  Inter- 
preter then  bid  him  tell  to  Christian  the  reason  of  his  so 
doing.  So  he  began  and  said,  This  night,  as  I  was  in  my 
sleep,  I  dreamed,  and  behold  the  heavens  grew  exceeding 
black;  also  it  thundered  and  lightened  in  most  fearful  wise, 
that  it  put  me  into  an  agony.  So  I  looked  up  in  my  dream, 
and  saw  the  clouds  racked  at  an  unusual  rate,  upon  which  I 
heard  a  great  sound  of  a  trumpet,  and  saw  also  a  Man  sit 
upon  a  cloud,  attended  with  the  thousands  of 
i  Tke'ss.  iv.  heaven :  they  were  all  in  flaming  fire ;  also  the 
2?rLsl  {.  8.  heavens  were  on  a  burning  flame.  I  heard 
'Rev1  xx  Ti-u  then  a  voice  saying,  "Arise,  ye  dead,  and  come 
Ific  ^l;1 16*  17  ^°  Judgment";  and  with  that  the  rocks  rent, 
the  graves  opened,  and  the  dead  that  were 
therein  came  forth.  Some  of  them  were  exceeding  glad,  and 


36  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

looked  upward;  and  some  sought  to  hide  themselves  under 

the  mountains.  Then  I  saw  the  Man  that  sat 
Dan.Cx.7~S'  upon  the  cloud  open  the  book,  and  bid  the 

world  draw  near.  Yet  there  was,  by  reason  of 
a  fierce  flame  that  issued  out  and  came  from  before  him,  a 

convenient  distance  betwixt  him  and  them,  as 
Dan.  lvii.  l\  to.  betwixt  the  judge  and  the  prisoners  at  the  bar. 

I  heard  it  also  proclaimed  to  them  that  attended 
on  the  Man  that  sat  on  the  cloud,  "  Gather  together  the  tares, 

the  chaff,  and  stubble,  and  cast  them  into  the 

Matt.  iii.  12.  . 

Chap.  xiii.  so.  burning  lake.  And  with  that,  the  bottomless 
pit  opened,  just  whereabout  I  stood;  out  of  the 

mouth  of  which  there  came  in  an  abundant  manner  smoke, 

and  coals  of  fire,  with  hideous  noises.  It  was  also  said  to 
the  same  persons,  "Gather  my  wheat  into  the 
garner."  And  with  that  I  saw  many  catched 

i  Tkess.  iv.  16,  Up  and  carried  away  into  the  clouds,  but  I  was 
left  behind.  I  also  sought  to  hide  myself,  but 

I  could  not,  for  the  Man  that  sat  upon  the  cloud  still  kept 
his  eye  upon  me:  my  sins  also  came  into  my 

Rom.  it.  14,  15.  .  . 

mind;  and  my  conscience  did  accuse  me  on 
every  side.  Upon  this  I  awaked  from  my  sleep. 

CHR.  But  what  was  it  that  made  you  so  afraid  of  this 
sight  ? 

MAN.  Why,  I  thought  that  the  day  of  judgment  was 
come,  and  that  I  was  not  ready  for  it;  but  this  frighted  me 
most,  that  the  angels  gathered  up  several,  and  left  me  be- 
hind; also  the  pit  of  hell  opened  her  mouth  just  where  I 
stood:  my  conscience,  too,  afflicted  me;  and  as  I  thought,  the 
Judge  had  always  his  eye  upon  me,  showing  indignation  in 
his  countenance. 

Then  said  the  Interpreter  to  Christian,  Hast  thou  con- 
sidered all  these  things? 

CHR.     Yes,  and  they  put  me  in  hope  and  fear. 

INTER.     Well,  keep  all  things  so  in  thy  mind,  that  they 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  37 

may  be  as  a  goad  in  thy  sides,  to  prick  thee  forward  in  the 
way  thou  must  go.  Then  Christian  began  to  gird  up  his 
loins,  and  to  address  himself  to  his  journey.  Then  said  the 
Interpreter,  The  Comforter  be  always  with  thee,  good  Chris- 
tian, to  guide  thee  in  the  way  that  leads  to  the  city.  So 
Christian  went  on  his  way,  saying  — 

Here  I  have  seen  things  rare,  and  profitable; 
Things  pleasant,  dreadful,  things  to  make  me  stable 
In  what  I  have  begun  to  take  in  hand; 
Then  let  me  think  on  them,  and  understand 
Wherefore  they  showed  me  was,  and  let  me  be 
Thankful,  O  good  Interpreter,  to  thee. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream  that  the  highway  up  which  Chris- 
tian was  to  go,  was  fenced  on  either  side  with  a  wall,  and  that 
wall  is  called  Salvation.  Up  this  way  there- 
fore did  burdened  Christian  run,  but  not  with- 
out great  difficulty,  because  of  the  load  on  his  back. 

He  ran  thus  till  he  came  at  a  place  somewhat  ascending, 
and  upon  that  place  stood  a  Cross,  and  a  little  below  in  the 
bottom,  a  Sepulchre.  So  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  just  as 
Christian  came  up  with  the  Cross  his  burden  loosed  from  off 
his  shoulders,  and  fell  from  off  his  back;  and  began  to  tum- 
ble, and  so  continued  to  do,  till  it  came  to  the  mouth  of  the 
Sepulchre,  where  it  fell  in,  and  I  sawr  it  no  more.1 

Then  was  Christian  glad  and  lightsome,  and 

W  hen  (jod 

releases  us  of        said  with  a  merry  heart,  He  hath  given  me  rest 

our  guilt  and  i        i  •  i  i  ••     i_    '  i  •      j         i          mi 

burden,  we  are       by  his  sorrow,  and  lite  by  his  death.     Ihen  he 
ol.          stood  still  a  while,  to  look  and  wonder;  for  it 


was  very  surprising  to  him,  that  the  sight  of 
the    Cross  should  thus  ease  him  of   his  bur- 
den.    He  looked  therefore,  and  looked  again,  even  till  the 

1  Who's  this?  the  Pilgrim.     How!  'tis  very  true, 
Old  things  are  pass'd  away,  all's  become  new. 
Strange!  he's  another  man,  upon  my  word, 
They  be  fine  feathers  that  make  a  fine  bird. 


38.  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

springs   that  were   in   his  head   sent  the   waters  down   his 

cheeks.     Now  as  he  stood  looking  and  \veeping,  behold  three 

Shining  Ones  came  to  him  and  saluted  him  with 

"Peace  be  to  thee."     So  the  first  said  to  him, 

Zech  Hi  4  "Thy  sins  be  forgiven":  the  second  stripped 

E  k  {  13  him  of  his  rags,  and  clothed  him  with  change 

of  raiment;  the  third  also  set  a  mark  in  his 

forehead,  and  gave  him  a  roll  with  a  seal  upon  it,  which  he 

bid  him  look  on  as  he  ran,  and  that  he  should  give  it  in 

at  the   Celestial    Gate.     So    they    went    their    way.     Then 

Christian  gave  three  leaps  for  joy,  and  went  on  singing  — 

A  Christian  can  Thus  far  did  I  come  loaden  with  my  sin; 

TntkZhn  God  Nor  could  aught  ease  the  grief  that  I  was  in, 

doth  give  him  the  Till  I  came  hither:  What  a  place  is  this  ! 

joy  of  his  heart.  Mugt  here  ^  ^  beginning  of  my  bliss  ? 

Must  here  the  burden  fall  from  off  my  back? 
Must  here  the  strings  that  bound  it  to  me,  crack? 
Blest  Cross  !  blest  Sepulchre  !  blest  rather  be 
The  Man  that  there  was  put  to  shame  for  me. 

I  saw  then  in  my  dream  that  he  went  on  thus,  even  until 

he  came  at  a  bottom,  where  he  saw,  a  little  out  of  the  way, 

three  men  fast  asleep,  with  fetters  upon  their 

Sloth,  and  heels.     The  name  of  the  one  was  Simple,  an- 

other Sloth,  and  the  third  Presumption. 
Christian  then  seeing  them  lie  in  this  case,  went  to  them, 
if  peradventure  he  might  awake  them,  and  cried,  You  are 
like  them  that  sleep  on  the  top  of  a  mast,  for  the  Dead  Sea 
is  under  you,  a  gulf  that  hath  no  bottom.     Awake  therefore 
and  come  away;  be  willing  also,   and  I  will 
help  you  off  with  your  irons.     He  also  told 
There  is  no  them,  If  he  that  goeth  about  like  a  roaring  lion 

wUl      comes  by>  y°u  wil1  certainly  become  a  prey  to 


openeth  not  the       ^  teeth.     With  that  they  looked  upon  him, 
and  began  to  reply  in  this  sort:  Simple  said,  I 
see  no  danger;   Sloth  said,  Yet  a  little  more  sleep;   and  Prr 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  39 

sumption  said,  Every  vat  must  stand  upon  his  own  bottom. 
And  so  they  lay  down  to  sleep  again,  and  Christian  went  on 
his  way. 

Yet  was  he  troubled  to  think  that  men  in  that  danger 
should  so  little  esteem  the  kindness  of  him  that  so  freely 
offered  to  help  them,  both  by  awakening  of  them,  counselling 
of  them,  and  proffering  to  help  them  off  with  their  irons. 
And  as  he  was  troubled  thereabout,  he  espied  two  men  come 
tumbling  over  the  wall,  on  the  left  hand  of  the  narrow  way; 
and  they  made  up  apace  to  him.  The  name  of  the  one 
was  Formalist,  and  the  name  of  the  other  Hypocrisy.  So, 
as  I  said,  they  drew  up  unto  him,  who  thus  entered  with 
him  into  discourse: 

CHR.     Gentlemen,   whence  came  you,   and 
^hither  do  you  go  ? 

FORM,  and  HYP.     We  were  born  in  the  land 
of  Vainglory,  and  are  going  for  praise  to  Mount  Zion. 

CHR.     Why  came  you  not  in  at  the  gate  which  standeth 

at  the  beginning  of  the  way  ?     Know  you  not  that  it  is  writ- 

ten, that  "He  that  cometh  not  in  by  the  door, 

John  z.l.  11.11  i 

but  climbeth  up  some  other  way,  the  same  is 
a  thief  and  a  robber"? 

FORM,  and  HYP.  They  said,  that  to  go  to  the  gate  for 
entrance  was  by  all  their  countrymen  counted  too  far  about; 
and  that  therefore  their  usual  way  was  to  make  a  short  cut 
of  it,  and  to  climb  over  the  wall,  as  they  had  done. 

CHR.  But  will  it  not  be  counted  a  trespass  against  the 
Lord  of  the  city  whither  we  are  bound,  thus  to  violate  his 
They  that  come  revealed  will  ? 

.  and  HYP.     They  told  him,    that   as 


think  that  they'      for  that,  he  needed  not  to  trouble  his  head 
something  in         thereabout;  for  what  they  did  they  had  cus- 

vindication  of  „  i  i  i  i  •<» 

their  own  torn  for;  and  could  produce,  if  need  were,  tes- 

timony that  would  witness  it  for  more  than  a 
thousand  years. 


40  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

CHH.  Bui,  said  Christian,  will  your  practice  stand  a  trial 
at  law  ? 

FORM,  and  HYP.  They  told  him,  that  custom,  it  being  of 
so  long  a  standing  as  above  a  thousand  years,  would  doubt- 
less now  be  admitted  as  a  thing  legal,  by  an  impartial  judge; 
and  besides,  said  they,  if  we  get  into  the  way,  what's  matter 
which  way  we  get  in  ?  if  we  are  in,  we  are  in;  thou  art  but  in 
the  way,  who,  as  we  perceive,  came  in  at  the  gate;  and  we 
are  also  in  the  way,  that  came  tumbling  over  the  wall;  wherein 
now  is  thy  condition  better  than  ours? 

CHR.  I  walk  by  the  rule  of  my  Master;  you  walk  by  the 
rude  working  of  your  fancies.  You  are  counted  thieves  al- 
ready, by  the  Lord  of  the  way;  therefore  I  doubt  you  will 
not  be  found  true  men  at  the  end  of  the  way.  You  come  in 
by  yourselves,  without  his  direction;  and  shall  go  out  by 
yourselves,  without  his  mercy. 

To  this  they  made  him  but  little  answer;  only  they  bid 
him  look  to  himself.  Then  I  saw  that  they  went  on  every 
man  in  his  way,  without  much  conference  one  with  another; 
save  that  these  two  men  told  Christian,  that  as  to  laws  and 
ordinances,  they  doubted  not  but  they  should  as  conscien- 
tiously do  them  as  he.  Therefore,  said  they,  We  see  not 
wherein  thou  differest  from  us  but  by  the  coat  that  is  on 
thy  back  which  was,  as  we  trow,  given  thee  by  some  of  thy 
neighbors,  to  hide  the  shame  of  thy  nakedness. 

CHR.     By  laws  and  ordinances  you  will  not 

ual.  n.  16.  .  -iii 

be  saved,  since  you  came  not  in  by  the  door. 
And  as  for  this  coat  that  is  on  my  back,  it  was  given  me  by 
the  Lord  of  the  place  whither  I  go;  and  that,  as  you  say,  to 
r,  .  ..  ,  .  cover  my  nakedness  with.  And  I  take  it  as  a 

Lnnstian  has  got  * 

his  Lord's  coat      token  of  his  kindness  to  me,  for  I  had  nothing 

on  his  back,  and 

is  comforteth         but  rags  before.     And  besides,  thus  I  comfort 

myself  as  I  go:  Surely,  think  I,  when  I  come 

to  the  gate  of  the  City,  the  Lord  thereof  will  know  me  for 

good,  since  I  have  his  coat  on  my  back;  a  coat  that  he  gave 


THE  PILGRIM  S  PROGRESS  41 

me  freely  in  the  day  that  he  stripped  me  of  my  rags.  I 
have,  moreover,  a  mark  in  my  forehead,  of 
ahowlth^his  which  perhaps  you  have  taken  no  notice,  which 
mark  and  his  one  Qf  mv  Lor(j's  mOst  intimate  associates  fixed 
there  in  the  day  that  my  burden  fell  off  my 
shoulders.  I  will  tell  you,  moreover,  that  I  had  then  given 
me  a  roll  sealed  to  comfort  me  by  reading,  as  I  go  on  in  the 
way;  I  was  also  bid  to  give  it  in  at  the  Celestial  Gate,  in 
token  of  my  certain  going  in  after  it:  all  which  things  I  doubt 
you  want,  and  want  them  because  you  came  not  in  at  the 
gate. 

To  these  things  they  gave  him  no  answer;  only  they  looked 

upon  each  other  and  laughed.     Then  I  saw  that  they  went 

on  all,  save  that  Christian  kept  before,  who 

Christian  haft 

talk  with  had  no  more  talk  but  with  himself,  and  that 

sometimes  sighingly,  and  sometimes  comfort- 
ably; also  he  would  be  often  reading  in  the  roll  that  one  of 
the  Shining  Ones  gave  him,  by  which  he  was  refreshed. 

I  beheld  then  that  they  all  went  on  till  they  came  to  the 
foot  of  the  Hill  Difficulty,  at  the  bottom  of  which  was  a 
spring.     There  was  also  in  the  same  place  two 
other  ways  besides  that  which  came  straight 
from  the  gate;  one  turned  to  the  left  hand, 
and  the  other  to  the  right,  at  the  bottom  of  the  hill;  but  the 
narrow  way  lay  right  up  the  hill  (and  the  name  of  the  going 
up  the  side  of   the  hill  is   called    Difficulty). 

/6-a.  xhx.  10.  . 

Christian  now  went  to  the  spring,  and  drank 
thereof  to  refresh  himself,  and  then  began  to  go  up  the  hill, 
saying — 

The  hill,  though  high,  I  covet  to  ascend, 

The  difficulty  will  not  me  offend; 

For  I  perceive  the  way  to  life  lies  here: 

Come,  pluck  up,  heart;  let's  neither  faint  nor  fear: 

Better,  though  difficult,  the  right  way  to  go, 

Than  wrong,  though  easy,  where  the  end  is  woe. 


42  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

The  other  two  also  came  to  the  foot  of  the  hill.  But 
when  they  saw  that  the  hill  was  steep  and  high,  and  that 
_,  ,  there  were  two  other  ways  to  go ;  and  supposing 

turning  out  of       also  that  these  two  ways  might   meet  again 

with  that  up  which  Christian  went,  on  the 
other  side  of  the  hill;  therefore  they  were  resolved  to  go  in 
those  ways.  (Now  the  name  of  one  of  those  ways  was  Dan- 
ger, and  the  name  of  the  other  Destruction.)  So  the  one 
took  the  way  which  is  called  Danger,  which  led  him  into  a 
great  wood;  and  the  other  took  directly  up  the  way  to  De- 
struction, which  led  him  into  a  wide  field  full  of  dark  moun- 
tains, where  he  stumbled  and  fell,  and  rose  no  more.1 

I  looked  then  after  Christian,  to  see  him  go  up  the  hill, 
where  I  perceived  he  fell  from  running  to  going,  and  from 

going  to  clambering  upon  his  hands  and  his 
frace^°^  knees,  because  of  the  steepness  of  the  place. 

Now  about  the  midway  to  the  top  of  the  hill 
was  a  pleasant  arbor,  made  by  the  Lord  of  the  hill  for  the 
refreshing  of  weary  travellers.  Thither  therefore  Christian 
got,  where  also  he  sat  down  to  rest  him.  Then  he  pulled  his 
roll  out  of  his  bosom,  and  read  therein  to  his  comfort;  he  also 
now  began  afresh  to  take  a  review  of  the  coat  or  garment 
that  was  given  him  as  he  stood  by  the  Cross.  Thus  pleasing 
himself  a  while,  he  at  last  fell  into  a  slumber,  and  thence  into 
a  fast  sleep,  which  detained  him  in  that  place  until  it  was 
He  that  sleeps  is  almost  night;  and  in  his  sleep  his  roll  fell  out 
a  loser.  of  njs  hand.  Now  as  he  was  sleeping,  there 

came  one  to  him,  and  awaked  him,  saying  "Go 

to  the  ant,  thou  sluggard;  consider  her  ways,  and  be  wise." 

And  with  that  Christian  suddenly  started  up,  and  sped  him 

on  his  way,  and  went  apace  till  he  came  to  the  top  of  the  hill. 

Now  when  he  was  got  up  to  the  top  of  the  hill,  there  came 

1  Shall  they  who  wrong  begin  yet  rightly  end? 
Shall  they  at  all  have  safety  for  their  friend? 
No,  no;  in  headstrong  manner  they  set  out, 
And  headlong  will  they  fall  at  last  no  doubt. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  43 

two  men  running  against  him  amain;  the  name  of  the  one 
was    Timorous,    and    the    other    Mistrust;    to 

Christian  meets  . 

with  Mistrust        whom  Christian  said,  Sirs,  what  s  the  matter 

and  Timorous.  ,  „       m.  _ 

you  run  the  wrong  way?  Timorous  answered 
that  they  were  going  to  the  City  of  Zion,  and  had  got  up 
that  difficult  place;  but,  said  he,  the  farther  we  go,  the  more 
danger  we  meet  with;  wherefore  we  turned,  and  are  going 
back  again. 

Yes,  said  Mistrust,  for  just  before  us  lie  a  couple  of  lions 
in  the  way,  whether  sleeping  or  waking  we  know  not;  and  we 
could  not  think,  if  we  came  within  reach,  but  they  would 
presently  pull  us  in  pieces. 

CHR.  Then  said  Christian,  You  make  me  afraid,  but 
whither  shall  I  fly  to  be  safe?  If  I  go  back  to  mine  own 

country,  that  is  prepared  for  fire  and  brirn- 
o/fearan  '*"*"  stone>  and  J  sha11  certainly  perish  there.  If  I 

can  get  to  the  Celestial  City,  I  am  sure  to  be 
in  safety  there.  I  must  venture:  to  go  back  is  nothing  but 
death;  to  go  forward  is  fear  of  death,  and  life  everlasting  be- 
yond it.  I  will  yet  go  forward.  So  Mistrust  and  Timorous 
ran  down  the  hill,  and  Christian  went  on  his  way.  But 
thinking  again  of  what  he  heard  from  the  men,  he  felt  in 
his  bosom  for  his  roll,  that  he  might  read  therein  and  be 

comforted;  but  he  felt  and  found  it  not.     Then 

Christian  missed  /~n     •    .  •         •  .      i.    .  i   i 

A/.V  mil  wherein  was  Christian  in  great  distress,  and  knew  not 
effort..10  take  what  to  d°;  for  he  wanted  that  which  used  to 

relieve  him,  and  that  which  should  have  been 
his  pass  into  the  Celestial  City.  Here  therefore  he  began  to 

be  much  perplexed,  and  knew  not  what  to  do. 
jir  h-JrdlXed  At  last  he  bethought  himself  that  he  had  slept 

in  the  arbor  that  is  on  the  side  of  the  hill:  and 
falling  down  upon  his  knees,  he  asked  God  forgiveness  for 
that  his  foolish  fact,  and  then  went  back  to  look  for  his  roll. 
But  all  the  way  he  went  back,  who  can  sufficiently  set  forth 
the  sorrow  of  Christian's  heart  ?  Sometimes  he  sighed,  some- 


44  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

times  he  wept,  and  oftentimes  he  chid  himself  for  being  so 
foolish  to  fall  asleep  in  that  place  which  was  erected  only  for 
a  little  refreshment  for  his  weariness.  Thus  therefore  he 
went  back,  carefully  looking  on  this  side  and  on  that,  all  the 
way  as  he  went,  if  haply  he  might  find  his  roll,  that  had  been 
his  comfort  so  many  times  in  his  journey.  He  went  thus  till 
he  came  again  within  sight  of  the  arbor  where  he  sat  and 
slept;  but  that  sight  renewed  his  sorrow  the  more,  by  bring- 

Christian  bewails     m§  a^am'  6Ve11  afresll>  his  6vil  °f  Bleeping  into 

his  foolish  his   mind.     Thus   therefore   he   now   went   on 

Rev.  iL  5.  bewailing  his  sinful  sleep,  saying  O  wretched 

1  Then.  v.  7,  8.  ,.     T  T  ,1      .   T     i        ,  i     ,  .      .,        , 

man  that  I  am,  that  I  should  sleep  in  the  day- 
time !  that  I  should  sleep  in  the  midst  of  difficulty !  that  I 
should  so  indulge  the  flesh  as  to  use  that  rest  for  ease  to  my 
flesh,  which  the  Lord  of  the  hill  hath  erected  only  for  the 
relief  of  the  spirits  of  pilgrims !  How  many  steps  have  I 
took  in  vain  !  (Thus  it  happened  to  Israel  for  their  sin,  they 
were  sent  back  again  by  the  way  of  the  Red  Sea),  and  I  am 
made  to  tread  those  steps  with  sorrow,  which  I  might  have 
trod  with  delight,  had  it  not  been  for  this  sinful  sleep.  How 
far  might  I  have  been  on  my  way  by  this  time !  I  am  made 
to  tread  those  steps  thrice  over,  which  I  needed  not  to  have 
trod  but  once;  yea,  now  also  I  am  like  to  be  benighted,  for 
the  day  is  almost  spent.  O  that  I  had  not  slept ! 

Now  by  this  time  he  was  come  to  the  arbor  again,  where 
for  a  while  he  sat  down  and  wept;  but  at  last  (as  Christian 

would  have  it),  looking  sorrowfully  down  under 

Christian  findetk  °   .  .          " 

his  roll  where  he  the  settle,  there  he  espied  his  roll ;  the  which 
he  with  trembling  and  haste  catched  up,  and 
put  it  into  his  bosom.  But  who  can  tell  how  joyful  this  man 
was,  when  he  had  gotten  his  roll  again !  for  this  roll  was  the 
assurance  of  his  life  and  acceptance  at  the  desired  haven,  i 
Therefore  he  laid  it  up  in  his  bosom,  gave  thanks  to  God  for 
directing  his  eye  to  the  place  where  it  lay,  and  with  joy  and 
tears  betook  himself  again  to  his  journey.  But  oh,  how 
nimbly  now  did  he  go  up  the  rest  of  the  hill !  Yet  before  he 


THE  PILGRIM'S   PROGRESS  45 

got  up,  the  sun  went  down  upon  Christian;  and  this  made 
him  again  recall  the  vanity  of  his  sleeping  to  his  remem- 
brance, and  thus  he  again  began  to  condole  with  himself: 
O  thou  sinful  sleep;  how  for  thy  sake  am  I  like  to  be  be- 
nighted in  my  journey  !  I  must  walk  without  the  sun,  dark- 
ness must  cover  the  path  of  my  feet,  and  I  must  hear  the 
noise  of  doleful  creatures,  because  of  my  sinful  sleep.  Now 
also  he  remembered  the  story  that  Mistrust  and  Timorous 
told  him  of,  how  they  were  frighted  with  the  sight  of  the 
lions.  Then  said  Christian  to  himself  again,  These  beasts 
range  in  the  night  for  their  prey;  and  if  they  should  meet 
with  me  in  the  dark,  how  should  I  shift  them  ?  how  should  I 
escape  being  by  them  torn  in  pieces?  Thus  he  went  on  his 
way,  but  while  he  was  thus  bewailing  his  unhappy  miscar- 
riage, he  lift  up  his  eyes,  and  behold  there  was  a  very  stately 
palace  before  him,  the  name  of  which  was  Beautiful;  and  it 
stood  just  by  the  highway-side. 

So  I  saw  in  my  dream  that  he  made  haste  and  went  for- 
ward, that  -if  possible  he  might  get  lodging  there;  now  before 
he  had  gone  far,  he  entered  into  a  very  narrow  passage,  which 
was  about  a  furlong  off  of  the  porter's  lodge;  and  looking  very 
narrowly  before  him  as  he  went,  he  espied  two  lions  in  the 
way.  Now,  thought  he,  I  see  the  dangers  that  Mistrust 
and  Timorous  were  driven  back  by.  (The  lions  were  chained, 
but  he  saw  not  the  chains.)  Then  he  was  afraid,  and  thought 
also  himself  to  go  back  after  them,  for  he  thought  nothing 
...  but  death  was  before  him:  but  the  porter  at 

the  lodge,  whose  name  is  Watchful,  perceiving 
that  Christian  made  a  halt,  as  if  he  would  go  back,  cried  unto 
him,  saying,  Is  thy  strength  so  small?  Fear  not  the  lions, 
for  they  are  chained,  and  are  placed  there  for  trial  of  faith 
v where  it  is,  and  for  discovery  of  those  that  have  none:  keep 
in  the  midst  of  the  path,  and  no  hurt  shall  come  unto  thee.1 


1  Difficulty's  behind,  fear  is  before, 
Though  he's  got  on  the  hill,  the  lions  roar; 
A  Christian  man  is  never  long  at  ease, 
When  one  fright's  gone,  another  doth  him  seize. 


46  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

Then  I  saw  that  he  went  on,  trembling  for  fear  of  the 
lions,  but  taking  good  heed  to  the  directions  of  the  porter; 
he  heard  them  roar,  but  they  did  him  no  harm.  Then  he 
clapt  his  hands,  and  went  on  till  he  came  and  stood  before 
the  gate  where  the  porter  was.  Then  said  Christian  to  the 
porter,  Sir,  what  house  is  this?  and  may  I  lodge  here  to- 
night? The  porter  answered,  This  house  was  built  by  the 
Lord  of  the  hill,  and  he  built  it  for  the  relief  and  security  of 
pilgrims.  The  porter  also  asked  whence  he  was,  and  whither 
he  was  going? 

CHR.  I  am  come  from  the  City  of  Destruction,  and  am 
going  to  Mount  Zion;  but  because  the  sun  is  now  set,  I  de- 
sire, if  I  may,  to  lodge  here  to-night. 

POR.     What  is  your  name? 

CHR.  My  name  is  now  Christian,  but  my  name  at  the 
first  was  Graceless;  I  came  of  the  race  of 
Japheth,  whom  God  will  persuade  to  dwell  in 
the  tents  of  Shem. 

POR.  But  how  doth  it  happen  you  come  so  late?  The 
sun  is  set* 

CHR.  I  had  been  here  sooner,  but  that,  wretched  man 
that  I  am !  I  slept  in  the  arbor  that  stands  on  the  hillside; 
nay,  I  had  notwithstanding  that  been  here  much  sooner,  but 
that  in  my  sleep  I  lost  my  evidence,  and  came  without  it  to 
the  brow  of  the  hill;  and  then  feeling  for  it,  and  finding  it 
not,  I  was  forced  with  sorrow  of  heart  to  go  back  to  the 
place  where  I  slept  my  sleep,  where  I  found  it,  and  now  I 
am  come. 

POR.  Well,  I  will  call  out  one  of  the  virgins  of  this  place, 
who  will,  if  she  likes  your  talk,  bring  you  in  to  the  rest  of 
the  family,  according  to  the  rules  of  the  house.  So  Watch- 
ful the  porter  rang  a  bell,  at  the  sound  of  which  came  out 
at  the  door  of  the  house  a  grave  and  beautiful  damsel,  named 
Discretion,  and  asked  why  she  was  called. 

The  porter  answered,  This  man  is  in  a  journey  from  the 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  47 

City  of  Destruction  to  Mount  Zion,  but  being  weary  and 
benighted,  he  asked  me  if  he  might  lodge  here  to-night;  so  I 
told  him  I  would  call  for  thee,  who,  after  discourse  had  with 
him,  mayest  do  as  seemeth  thee  good,  even  according  to  the 
law  of  the  house. 

Then  she  asked  him  whence  he  was,  and  whither  he  was 
going;  and  he  told  her.  She  asked  him  also,  how  he  got 
into  the  way;  and  he  told  her.  Then  she  asked  him  what 
he  had  seen  and  met  with  in  the  way;  and  he  told  her.  And 
last  she  asked  his  name;  so  he  said.  It  is  Christian,  and  I 
have  so  much  the  more  a  desire  to  lodge  here  to-night,  be- 
cause, by  what  I  perceive,  this  place  was  built  by  the  Lord 
of  the  hill,  for  the  relief  and  security  of  pilgrims.  So  she 
smiled,  but  the  water  stood  in  her  eyes;  and  after  a  little 
pause,  she  said,  I  will  call  forth  two  or  three  more  of  the 
family.  So  she  ran  to  the  door,  and  called  out  Prudence, 
Piety,  and  Charity,  who,  after  a  little  more  discourse  with 
him,  had  him  in  to  the  family;  and  many  of  them,  meeting 
him  at  the  threshold  of  the  house,  said,  Come  in,  thou  blessed 
of  the  Lord;  this  house  was  built  by  the  Lord  of  the  hill,  on 
purpose  to  entertain  such  pilgrims  in.  Then  he  bowed  his 
head,  and  followed  them  into  the  house.  So  when  he  was 
come  in  and  set  down,  they  gave  him  something  to  drink, 
and  consented  together  that,  until  supper  was  ready,  some 
of  them  should  have  some  particular  discourse  with  Christian, 
for  the  best  improvement  of  time;  and  they  appointed  Piety, 
and  Prudence,  and  Charity  to  discourse  with  him:  and  thus 
they  began: 

PIETY.  Come,  good  Christian,  since  we  have  been  so 
loving  to  you,  to  receive  you  into  our  house  this 
Pwty  discourse.  njght,  let  us,  if  perhaps  we  may  better  ourselves 
thereby,  talk  with  you  of  all  things  that  have 

,ppened  to  you  in  your  pilgrimage. 

CHR.  With  a  very  good  will,  and  I  am  glad  that  you  are 
so  well  disposed. 


48  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

PIETY.  What  moved  you  at  first  to  betake  yourself  to  a 
pilgrim's  life? 

CHR.     I  was  driven  out  of  my  native  country 

How  Chnsian  . 

was  driven  out  of  by  a  dreadful  sound  that  was  in  mine  ears :  to 
wit,  that  unavoidable  destruction   did   attend 
me,  if  I  abode  in  that  place  where  I  was. 

PIETY.  But  how  did  it  happen  that  you  came  out  of  your 
country  this  way? 

CHR.     It  was  as  God  would  have  it;  for  when  I  was  under 
the  fears  of  destruction,  I  did  not  know  whither  to  go;  but 
by  chance  there  came  a  man,  even  to  me  (as  I 
n     was  trembling  and  weeping),   whose  name  is 
Evangelist,  and  he  directed  me  to  the  Wicket- 
gate,  which  else  I  should  never  have  found,  and  so  set  me 
into  the  way  that  hath  led  me  directly  to  this  house. 

PIETY.  But  did  you  not  come  by  the  house  of  the  Inter- 
preter ? 

CHR.     Yes,  and  did  see  such  things  there,  the  remembrance 

of  which  will  stick  by  me  as  long  as  I  live;  specially  three 

things:  to  wit,  How  Christ,  in  despite  of  Satan, 

A  rehearsal  of  ..,.,»  . 

what  he  saw  in  maintains  his  work  oi  grace  in  the  heart;  how 
the  man  had  sinned  himself  quite  out  of  hopes 
of  God's  mercy;  and  also  the  dream  of  him  that  thought  in 
his  sleep  the  day  of  judgment  was  come. 

PIETY.     Why,  did  you  hear  him  tell  his  dream? 

CHR.  Yes,  and  a  dreadful  one  it  was.  I  thought  it  made 
my  heart  ache  as  he  was  telling  of  it;  but  yet  I  am  glad  I 
heard  it. 

PIETY.  Was  that  all  you  saw  at  the  house  of  the  Inter- 
preter ? 

CHR.  No;  he  took  me  and  had  me  where  he  showed  me 
a  stately  palace,  and  how  the  people  were  clad  in  gold  that 
were  in  it;  and  how  there  came  a  venturous  man  and  cut  his 
way  through  the  armed  men  that  stood  in  the  door  to  keep 
him  out,  and  how  he  was  bid  to  come  in,  and  win  eternal 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  49 

glory.  Methought  those  things  did  ravish  my  heart;  I  would 
have  stayed  at  that  good  man's  house  a  twelvemonth,  but 
that  I  knew  I  had  further  to  go. 

PIETY.     And  what  saw  you  else  in  the  way? 

CHR.  Saw !  Why,  I  went  but  a  little  further,  and  I  saw 
One,  as  I  thought  in  my  mind,  hang  bleeding  upon  the  tree; 
and  the  very  sight  of  him  made  my  burden  fall  off  my  back 
(for  I  groaned  under  a  very  heavy  burden),  but  then,  it  fell 
down  from  off  me.  'Twas  a  strange  thing  to  me,  for  I  never 
saw  such  a  thing  before ;  yea,  and  while  I  stood  looking  up 
(for  then  I  could  not  forbear  looking),  three  Shining  Ones 
came  to  me.  One  of  them  testified  that  my  sins  were  for- 
given me;  another  stripped  me  of  my  rags,  and  gave  me  this 
broidered  coat  which  you  see;  and  the  third  set  the  mark 
which  you  see,  in  my  forehead,  and  gave  me  this  sealed  roll 
(and  with  that  he  plucked  it  out  of  his  bosom). 

PIETY.     But  you  saw  more  than  this,  did  you  not? 

CHR.  The  things  that  I  have  told  you  were  the  best;  yet 
some  other  matters  I  saw,  as,  namely,  I  saw  three  men,  Sim- 
ple, Sloth,  and  Presumption,  lie  asleep  a  little  out  of  the 
way  as  I  came,  with  irons  upon  their  heels;  but  do  you  think 
I  could  awake  them !  I  also  saw  Formality  and  Hypocrisy 
come  tumbling  over  the  wall,  to  go,  as  they  pretended,  to 
Zion,  but  they  were  quickly  lost;  even  as  I  myself  did  tell 
them,  but  they  would  not  believe:  but,  above  all,  I  found  it 
hard  work  to  get  up  this  hill,  and  as  hard  to  come  by  the 
lions'  mouth;  and  truly  if  it  had  not  been  for  the  good  man, 
the  porter  that  stands  at  the  gate,  I  do  not  know  but  that 
after  all  I  might  have  gone  back  again;  but  now  I  thank 
God  I  am  here,  and  I  thank  you  for  receiving  of  me. 

Then  Prudence  thought  good  to  ask  him  a  few  questions, 
and  desired  his  answer  to  them. 

Prudence  PRUD.     Do  you  not  think  sometimes  of  the 

discourses  him.      country  f rom  wnence  you  came  ? 

CHR.     Yes,  but  with  much  shame  and  detestation:  Truly, 


50  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

if  I  had  been  mindful  of  that  country  from  whence  I  came 
Christians  ou^>  ^  might  have  had  opportunity  to  have  re- 

turned;  but  now  I  desire  a  better  country,  that 

is,  a  heavenly. 

Heb.  xi.  15,  16. 

PRUD.  Do  you  not  yet  bear  away  with 
you  some  of  the  things  that  then  you  were  conversant 
withal? 

CHR.     Yes,  but  greatly  against  my  will;  especially  my  in- 
ward and  carnal  cogitations,  with  which  all  my 
distasted  with        countrymen,  as  well  as  myself,  were  delighted; 
Cogitations.  but  now  all   those  things  are   my  grief:    and 

Christians  might  I  but  choose  mine  own  things,  I  would 

ckowe.  choose  never  to   think  of   those  things  more; 

liOTIl.  VU.  xl. 

but  when  I  would  be  doing  of  that  which  is 
best,  that  which  is  worst  is  with  me. 

PRUD.     Do  you  not  find  sometimes  as  if  those  things  were 
vanquished,  which  at  other  times  are  your  perplexity  ? 

CHR.  Yes,  but  that  is  but  seldom;  but  they 
are  to  me  golden  hours  in  which  such  things 
happen  to  me. 

PRUD.     Can  you  remember  by  what  means  you  find  your 
annoyances  at  times,  as  if  they  were  vanquished? 

CHR.     Yes,  when  I  think  what  I  saw  at  the  Cross,  that 

will  do  it;  and  when  I  look  upon  my  broidered 

get*  power  "*        coat,  that  will  do  it ;  also  when  I  look  into  the 

2£^£.  roll    that  I   carry  in  my  bosom,  that  will  do 

it;   and  when  my  thoughts  wax  warm  about 

whither  I  am  going,  that  will  do  it. 

PRUD.     And  what  is  it  that  makes  you  so  desirous  to  go 
to  Mount  Zion? 

CHR.     Why,  there  I  hope  to  see  him  alive,  that  did  hang 
dead  on   the   Cross;   and   there  I  hope  to   be 

Why  Christian 

would  be  at  rid  of  all  those  things  that  to  this  day  are  in 

Mount  Zion.  ,  ,  , 

me  an  annoyance  to  me;  there  they  say  there  is 
no  death,  and  there  I  shall  dwell  with  such  company  as  I 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  51 

like  best.     For  to  tell  you  truth,  I  love  him,  because  I  was 

by  him  eased  of  my  burden,  and  I  am  weary 

Ifcp.zS'.  4'.  °f  mv  inward  sickness;  I  would  fain  be  where 

I  shall  die  no  more,    and  with  the  company 

that  shall  continually  cry  "Holy,  holy,  holy." 

Then  said  Charity  to  Christian,  Have  you  a 
s,  him.      family  ?     Are  you  a  married  man  ? 

CHR.     I  have  a  wife  and  four  small  children. 
CHAR.     And  why  did  you  not  bring  them  along  with  you  ? 

Christian      wePt>      and      said, 


CM&»'.k~ 

to  his  wife  and      Oh     how    willingly    would    I    have    done    it, 

children.  . 

but  they  were  all  or  them  utterly  averse 
to  my  going  on  pilgrimage. 

CHAR.  But  you  should  have  talked  to  them,  and  have 
endeavored  to  have  shown  them  the  danger  of  being  behind. 
Gen  xix  14  CHR.  So  I  did,  and  told  them  also  what 

God  had  showed  to  me  of  the  destruction  of 
our  city;  but  I  seemed  to  them  as  one  that  mocked,  and  they 
believed  me  not. 

CHAR.  And  did  you  pray  to  God  that  he  would  bless  your 
counsel  to  them? 

CHR.  Yes,  and  that  with  much  affection;  for  you  must 
think  that  my  wife  and  poor  children  were  very  dear 
unto  me. 

CHAR.  But  did  you  tell  them  of  your  own  sorrow,  and 
fear  of  destruction  ?  for  I  suppose  that  destruction  was  visible 
enough  to  you? 

CHR.  Yes,  over,  and  over,  and  over.  They  might  also 
Christian's  fear*  see  my  fears  in  my  countenance,  in  my  tears, 
miPMibeiread  &U(^  a^so  m  mv  trembling  under  the  apprehen- 
in  his  very  sion  of  the  judgment  that  did  hang  over  our 

countenance.  .  . 

heads;  but  all  was  not  sufficient  to  prevail  with 
them  to  come  with  me. 

CHAR.  But  what  could  they  say  for  themselves  why 
they  came  not? 


52  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

CHR.     Why,  my  wife  was  afraid  of  losing  this  world,  and 

my  children  were  given  to  the  foolish  delights 

hiswijeSandV      of  youth:   so   what   by    one    thing,  and  what 

C0^thh^n0t     by  another,  they  left   me   to   wander   in    this 

manner  alone. 

CHAR.  But  did  you  not,  with  your  vain  life,  damp  all 
that  you  by  words  used  by  way  of  persuasion  to  bring  them 
away  with  you  ? 

CHR.     Indeed  I  cannot  commend  my  life;  for  I  am  con- 
scious to  myself  of  many  failings  therein:  I  knowr  also  that 
a  man  by  his  conversation  may  soon  overthrow 

Christian's  good          i      .    i  -11,111 

conversation  what  by  argument  or  persuasion  he  doth  labor 
baiTchMrWen.e  to  fasten  upon  others  for  their  good.  Yet  this 
I  can  say,  I  was  very  wary  of  giving  them  oc- 
casion, by  any  unseemly  action,  to  make  them  averse  to 
going  on  pilgrimage.  Yea,  for  this  very  thing  they  would 
tell  me  I  was  too  precise,  and  that  I  denied  myself  of  things 
(for  their  sakes)  in  which  they  saw  no  evil.  Nay,  I  think  I 
may  say,  that,  if  what  they  saw  in  me  did  hinder  them,  it 
was  my  great  tenderness  in  sinning  against  God,  or  of  doing 
any  wrong  to  my  neighbor. 

i  John  Hi.  12.  CHAR.     Indeed,  Cain  hated  his  brother,  be- 

cause his  own  works  were  evil,  and  his  brother's 

Christian  clear 

of  their  blood  if     righteous;   and  if  thy  wife  and  children  have 
been  offended  with  thee  for  this,  they  thereby 
show  themselves  to  be  implacable  to  good,  and 
thou  hast  delivered  thy  soul  from  their  blood. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  thus  they  sat  talking  to- 
gether until  supper  was  ready.     So  when  they  had  made 
ready,  they  sat  down  to  meat.     Now  the  table 

What  Christian 

had  to  his  was  furnished  with  fat  things,  and  with  wine 

that  was  well  refined;  and  all  their  talk  at  the 

Their  talk  at  table  was  about  the  Lord  of  the  hill;  as,  namely, 
about  what  he  had  done,  and  wherefore  he  did 

what  he  did,  and  why  he  had  builded  that  house:  and,  by 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  53 

what  they  said,  I  perceived  that  he  had  been  a  great  warrior, 
and  had  fought  with  and  slain  him  that  had 

neb.  u.  14,  15. 

the  power  or  death,  but  not  without  great 
danger  to  himself, — which  made  me  love  him  the  more. 

For,  as  they  said,  and  as  I  believe  (said  Christian),  he  did 
it  with  the  loss  of  much  blood;  but  that  which  put  glory  of 
grace  into  all  he  did,  was,  that  he  did  it  out  of  pure  love  to 
his  country.  And  besides,  there  were  some  of  them  of  the 
household  that  said,  they  had  seen  and  spoke  with  him  since 
he  did  die  on  the  Cross;  and  they  have  attested,  that  they 
had  it  from  his  own  lips,  that  he  is  such  a  lover  of  poor  pil- 
grims, that  the  like  is  not  to  be  found  from  the  east  to  the 
west. 

They  moreover  gave  an  instance  of  what  they  affirmed, 
and  that  was,  He  had  stripped  himself  of  his  glory  that  he 
Christ  makes  might  do  this  for  the  poor;  and  that  they  heard 
vrines  of  him  say  and  affirm,  That  he  would  not  dwell 

oeggars.  t 

i  Sam.ti.  8          in   the   Mountain   of  Zion   alone.     They   said 
moreover,  That  he  had  made  many  pilgrims 

princes,  though  by  nature  they  were  beggars  born,  and  their 

original  had  been  the  dunghill. 

Thus  they  discoursed  together  till  late  at  night,  and  after 

they  had  committed  themselves  to  their  Lord  for  protection, 
they  betook  themselves  to  rest.     The  pilgrim 

bMamber.          tney  laid  in  a  large  upper  chamber,  whose  win- 
dow opened  towards  the  sun  rising:  the  name 

of  the  chamber  was  Peace;  where  he  slept  till  break  of  day, 

and  then  he  awqke  and  sang — 

Where  am  I  now !     Is  this  the  love  and  care 
Of  Jesus,  for  the  men  that  pilgrims  are ! 
Thus  to  provide !     That  I  should  be  forgiven ! 
And  dwell  already  the  next  door  to  heaven ! 

So  in  the  morning  they  all  got  up,  and  after  some  more 
discourse,  they  told  him  that  he  should  not  depart  till  they 


54  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

had  showed  him  the  rarities  of  that  place.     And  first  they 
had   him   into  the   study,  where  they  showed 

Christian  had  -i  •  ii»ji  i  •        • ,         •          i  •   i 

into  the  study,  him  records  ot  the  greatest  antiquity;  m  which. 
a^what  he  saw  ag  j  rememDer  my  dream,  they  showed  him 
first  the  pedigree  of  the  Lord  of  the  hill,  that 
he  was  the  son  of  the  Ancient  of  Days,  and  came  by  an 
eternal  generation.  Here  also  was  more  fully  recorded  the 
acts  that  he  had  done,  and  the  names  of  many  hundreds  that 
he  had  taken  into  his  service;  and  how  he  had  placed  them 
in  such  habitations  that  could  neither  by  length  of  days  nor 
decays  of  nature  be  dissolved. 

Then  they  read  to  him  some  of  the  worthy  acts  that  some 
of  his  servants  had  done:  as,  how  they  had  subdued  king- 
.  doms,  wrought  righteousness,  obtained  prom- 

ises, stopped  the  mouths  of  lions,  quenched  the 
violence  of  fire,  escaped  the  edge  of  the  sword;  out  of  weak- 
ness were  made  strong,  waxed  valiant  in  fight,  and  turned 
to  flight  the  armies  of  the  aliens. 

Then  they  read  again  in  another  part  of  the  records  of  the 
house,  where  it  was  showed  how  willing  their  Lord  was  to 
receive  into  his  favor  any,  even  any,  though  they  in  time 
past  had  offered  great  affronts  to  his  person  and  proceedings. 
Here  also  were  several  other  histories  of  many  other  famous 
things,  of  all  which  Christian  had  a  view.  As  of  things  both 
ancient  and  modern:  together  with  prophecies  and  predic- 
tions of  things  that  have  their  certain  accomplishment,  both 
to  the  dread  and  amazement  of  enemies,  and  the  comfort 
and  solace  of  pilgrims. 

The  next  day  they  took  him  and  had  him  into  the  armory, 
where  they  showed  him  all  manner  of  furniture,  which  their 
Lord  had  provided  for  pilgrims,  as  sword, 
shield,  helmet,  breastplate,  all-prayer,  and 
shoes  that  would  not  wear  out.  And  there  was 
here  enough  of  this  to  harness  out  as  many  men  for  the 
service  of  their  Lord  as  there  be  stars  in  the  heaven  for  mul- 
titude. 


THE  PILGRIM'S   PROGRESS  55 

They  also  showed  him  some  of  the  engines  with  which 

some    of   his    servants    had    done   wonderful   things.     They 

showed  him  Moses'  rod,  the  hammer  and  nail 

Christian  is  .  . 

made  to  see  with  which  Jael  slew  Sisera,  the  pitchers,  trum- 

pets, and  lamps  too,  with  which  Gideon  put  to 
flight  the  armies  of  Midian.  Then  they  showed  him  the 
ox's  goad  wherewith  Shamgar  slew  six  hundred  men.  They 
showed  him  also  the  jaw-bone  with  which  Samson  did  such 
mighty  feats:  they  showed  him  moreover  the  sling  and  stone 
with  which  David  slew  Goliath  of  Gath;  and  the  sword  also 
with  which  their  Lord  will  kill  the  man  of  sin,  in  the  day 
that  he  shall  rise  up  to  the  prey.  They  showed  him  besides 
many  excellent  things,  with  which  Christian  was  much  de- 
lighted. This  done,  they  went  to  their  rest  again. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  on  the  morrow  he  got  up 

to  go  forwards,  but  they  desired  him  to  stay  till  the  next  day 

.    also;  and  then,  said  they,  we  will,  if  the  day  be 

tnnstian  showed 

the  Delectable        clear,    show    you    the    Delectable    Mountains, 

which,  they  said,  would  yet  further  add  to  his 

comfort,  because  they  were  nearer  the  desired  haven  than 

the  place  where  at  present  he  was:  so  he  consented  and 

stayed.     When  the  morning  was  up,  they  had  him  to  the 

top  of  the  house,  and  bid  him  look  south;  so 

7*a.  xxxm.  16, 17.        r 

he  did;  and  behold,  at  a  great  distance  he  saw 
a  most  pleasant  mountainous  country,  beautified  with  woods, 
vineyards,  fruits  of  all  sorts,  flowers  also,  with  springs  and 
fountains,  very  delectable  to  behold.  Then  he  asked  the 
name  of  the  country:  they  said  it  was  Immanuel's  Land;  and 
it  is  as  common,  said  they,  as  this  hill  is,  to  and  for  all  the 
pilgrims.  And  when  thou  comest  there,  from  thence  thou 
mayest  see  to  the  gate  of  the  Celestial  City,  as  the  shepherds 
that  live  there  will  make  appear. 

Now  he  bethought  himself  of  setting  forward, 
f^!rdnsets        and   they  were  willing  he   should.     But  first, 

said  they,  let  us  go  into  the  armory.  So  they 
did;  and  when  he  came  there,  they  harnessed  him  from 


56  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

head  to  foot,  with  what  was  of  proof,  lest  perhaps  he  should 
meet   with    assaults    in    the    way.       He  being 
Cawlf™medni        therefore   thus  accoutred  walketh  out  with  his 
friends   to  the  gate,   and   there   he   asked  the 
porter  if  he  saw  any  pilgrims  pass  by,1  Then  the  porter  an- 
swered, Yes. 

CHR.     Pray  did  you  know  hirn?  said  he. 
POR.     I  asked  his  name,  and  he  told  me  it  was  Faithful. 
CHR.     Oh,  said  Christian,  I  know  him;  he  is  my  townsman, 
my  near    neighbor,  he  comes  from  the   place  where  I   was 
born:  how  far  do  you  think  he  may  be  before? 
POR.     He  is  got  by  this  time  below  the  hill. 

CHR.     Well,    said    Christian,    good    porter, 

How  Christian 

and  the  porter        the   Lord   be  with   thee,    and   add    to    all    thy 

greet  at  parting.       ,  ,  ,        .  e  . 

blessings  much  increase,  for  the  kindness 
that  thou  hast  showed  to  me. 

Then  he  began  to  go  forward,  but  Discretion,  Piety,  Char- 
ity, and  Prudence  would  accompany  him  down  to  the  foot 

of  the  hill.  So  they  went  on  together,  reiterat- 
HumiUatwn!  in§  their  f°rmer  discourses  till  they  came  to 

go  down  the  hill.  Then  said  Christian,  As  it 
was  difficult  coming  up,  so  (so  far  as  I  can  see)  it  is  dangerous 
going  down.  Yes,  said  Prudence,  so  it  is;  for  it  is  a  hard 
matter  for  a  man  to  go  down  into  the  Valley  of  Humiliation, 
as  thou  art  now,  and  to  catch  no  slip  by  the  way;  therefore, 
said  they,  are  we  come  out  to  accompany  thee  down  the  hill. 
So  he  began  to  go  down,  but  very  warily,  yet  he  caught  a 
slip  or  two. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  these  good  companions, 
when  Christian  was  gone  down  to  the  bottom  of  the  hill, 
gave  him  a  loaf  of  bread,  a  bottle  of  wine,  and  a  cluster  of 
raisins;  and  then  he  went  on  his  way. 

1  Whilst  Christian  is  among  his  godly  friends, 
Their  golden  mouths,  make  him  sufficient  'mends 
For  all  his  griefs;  and  when  they  let  him  go, 
He's  clad  with  northern  steel  from  top  to  toe. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  57 

But  now  in  this  Valley  of  Humiliation  poor  Christian  was 

hard  put  to  it,  for  he  had  gone  but  a  little  way  before  he 

espied  a  foul  fiend  coming  over  the  field  to 

Christian  no  .  . 

armor  for  meet  him;  his  name  is  Apollyon.  Then  did 

Christian  begin  to  be  afraid,  and  to  cast  in  his 

mind  whether  to  go   back,   or  to  stand    his  ground.     But 

he  considered  again,  that  he  had  no  armor  for  his  back, 
and  therefore  thought  that  to  turn  the  back  to 

Resolution  an  the    him,  might  give  him   greater  advantage  with 


ease  to  pierce   him  with   his  darts;   therefore 
he  resolved  to  venture,  and  stand  his  ground. 
For,  thought  he,  had  I  no  more  in  mine  eye  than  the  saving 
of  my  life,  'twould  be  the  best  way  to  stand. 

So  he  went  on,  and  Apollyon  met  him.  Now  the  monster 
was  hideous  to  behold:  he  was  clothed  with  scales  like  a  fish 
(and  they  are  his  pride);  he  had  wings  like  a  dragon,  feet 
like  a  bear,  and  out  of  his  belly  came  fire  and  smoke;  and 
his  mouth  was  as  the  mouth  of  a  lion.  When  he  was  come 
up  to  Christian,  he  beheld  him  with  a  disdainful  counte- 
nance, and  thus  began  to  question  with  him: 

APOL.     Whence  come  you?  and  whither  are  you  bound? 
CHR.     I  am  come  from  the  City  of  Destruc- 
6  tion,  which  is  the  place  of  all  evil,  and  am 

and       going  to  the  City  of  Zion. 

APOL.     By  this  I  perceive  thou  art  one  of  my 

subjects,  for  all  that  country  is  mine;  and  I  am  the  prince  and 

god  of  it.     How  is  it  then  that  thou  hast  run  away  from  thy 

king?     Were  it  not  that  I  hope  thou  mayest  do  me  more 

service,  I  would  strike  thee  now  at  one  blow  to  the  ground. 

CHR.     I  was  born  indeed  in  your  dominions,  but  your 

service  was  hard,  and  your  wages  such  as  a  man  could  not 

live  on,  "for  the  wages  of  sin  is  death";  there- 

Rom.  vi.  23. 

fore  when  I  was  come  to  years,  I  did  as  other 
considerate  persons  do,  look  out,  if  perhaps  I  might  mend 
mvself. 


58  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

APOL.     There  is  no  prince  that  will  thus  lightly  lose  his 
subjects,  neither  will  I  as  yet  lose  thee:  but 
since    thou    complainest    of    thy    service    and 
wages,  be  content  to  go  back;  what  our  country 
will  afford,  I  do  here  promise  to  give  thee. 

CHR.  But  I  have  let  myself  to  another,  even  to  the 
King  of  princes,  and  how  can  I  with  fairness  go  back  with 
thee  ? 

APOL.     Thou  hast  done  in  this,  according  to  the  proverb, 

changed  a  bad  for  a  worse;  but  it  is  ordinary 

undervalues  for  those  who  have  professed  themselves  his 

servants,  after  a  while  to  give  him  the  slip,  and 

return  again  to  me.     Do  thou  so  too,  and  all  shall  be  well. 

CHR.  I  have  given  him  my  faith,  and  sworn  my  allegiance 
to  him;  how  then  can  I  go  back  from  this,  and  not  be  hanged 
as  a  traitor? 

,    „  APOL.     Thou  didst  the  same  to  me,  and  yet 

pretends  to  be        I  am  willing  to  pass  by  all,  if  now  thou  wilt 

merciful.  .          ^  J 

yet  turn  again  and  go  back. 

CHR.  What  I  promised  thee  was  in  my  nonage;  and  be- 
sides, I  count  that  the  Prince  under  whose  banner  now  I 
stand,  is  able  to  absolve  me;  yea,  and  to  pardon  also  what  I 
did  as  to  my  compliance  with  thee:  and  besides  (O  thou  de- 
stroying Apollyon),  to  speak  truth,  I  like  his  service,  his 
wages,  his  servants,  his  government,  his  company,  and 
country  better  than  thine;  and  therefore  leave  off  to  per- 
suade me  further,  I  am  his  servant,  and  I  will  follow  him. 

APOL.  Consider  again  when  thou  art  in  cold  blood,  what 
thou  art  like  to  meet  with  in  the  way  that  thou  goest.  Thou 
A  olh  on  leads  knowest  that  for  the  most  part,  his  servants 
the  grievous  ends  come  to  an  ill  end,  because  they  are  transgres- 

of  Christians,  to  J 

dissuade  sors  against  me  and  my  ways.     How  many  of 

persisting  in          them  have  been  put  to  shameful  deaths  !  and  be- 
sides,   thou   countest   his   service   better   than 
mine,   whereas   he   never   came   yet   from   the  place  where 
he  is,  to  deliver  any  that  served  him  out  of  our  hands;  but 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  59 

as  for  me,  how  many  times,  as  all  the  world  very  well  knows, 
have  I  delivered,  either  by  power  or  fraud,  those  that  have 
faithfully  served  me,  from  him  and  his,  though  taken  by 
them,  and  so  I  will  deliver  thee. 

CHR.  His  forbearing  at  present  to  deliver  them  is  on  pur- 
pose to  try  their  love,  whether  they  will  cleave  to  him  to 
the  end:  and  as  for  the  ill  end  thou  sayest  they  come  to, 
that  is  most  glorious  in  their  account:  For  for  present  deliv- 
erance, they  do  not  much  expect  it;  for  they  stay  for  their 
glory,  and  then  they  shall  have  it,  when  their  Prince  comes 
in  his,  and  the  glory  of  the  angels. 

APOL.  Thou  hast  already  been  unfaithful  in  thy  ser- 
vice to  him,  and  how  dost  thou  think  to  receive  wages  of 
him? 

CHR.  Wherein,  O  Apollyon,  have  I  been  unfaithful  to 
him  ? 

APOL.     Thou  didst  faint  at  first  setting  out,  when  thou 
wast  almost  choked  in  the  Gulf  of  Despond;  thou  didst  at- 
tempt wrong  ways  to  be  rid  of  thy  burden, 
Christian^ ea       whereas   thou   shouldest  have   stayed   till   thy 
SStL.          Prince   had   taken   it   off;   thou   didst   sinfully 
sleep  and  lose  thy  choice  thing;  thou  wast  also 
almost  persuaded  to  go  back  at  the  sight  of  the  lions;  and 
when  thou  talkest  of  thy  journey,  and  of  what  thou  hast 
heard  and  seen,  thou  art  inwardly  desirous  of  vainglory  in 
all  that  thou  sayest  or  doest. 

CHR.  All  this  is  true,  and  much  more,  which  thou  hast 
left  out;  but  the  Prince  whom  I  serve  and  honor  is  merciful, 
and  ready  to  forgive;  but  besides,  these  infirmities  possessed 
me  in  thy  country,  for  there  I  sucked  them  in,  and  I  have 
groaned  under  them,  been  sorry  for  them,  and  have  obtained 
pardon  of  my  Prince. 

APOL.      Then   Apollyon    broke   out    into   a 

Apollyon  in  a  . 

ragefa.ll*  upon       grievous  rage,  saying,  I  am  an  enemy  to  this 
Prince;  I  hate  his  person,  his  laws,  and  people; 
I  am  corne  out  on  purpose  to  withstand  thee. 


60  THE   PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

CHR.  Apollyon,  beware  what  you  dc\  for  I  am  in  the 
King's  highway,  the  way  of  holiness,  therefore  take  heed  to 
yourself. 

APOL.  Then  Apollyon  straddled  quite  over  the  whole 
breadth  of  the  way,  and  said,  I  am  void  of  fear  hi  this  mat- 
ter, prepare  thyself  to  die;  for  I  swear  by  my  infernal  den 
thou  shalt  go  no  further;  here  will  I  spill  thy  soul. 

And  with  that  he  threw  a  flaming  dart  at  his  breast,  but 
Christian  had  a  shield  in  his  hand,  with  which  he  caught  it, 
and  so  prevented  the  danger  of  that. 

Then  did  Christian  draw,  tor  he  saw  'twas  time  to  bestir 
him;  and  Apollyon  as  fast  made  at  him,  throwing  darts  as 
Christian  thick  as  hail;  by  the  which,  notwithstanding 

wounded  in  kis  all  that  Christian  could  do  to  avoid  it,  Apollvon 

understanding, 

faith,  and  wounded  him  in  his  head,  his  hand,  and  foot. 

Conversation,  rnl  .  i      /TI     •      •  •  i»     t      t        i 

I  his  made  Christian  give  a  little  back;    Apol- 
lyon, therefore,  followed  his  work  amain,  and  Christian  again 
took  courage,  and  resisted  as  manfully  as  he  could.     This 
sore  combat  lasted  for  above  half  a  day,  even  till  Christian 
was  almost  quite  spent.     For  you  must  know  that  Christian, 
by  reason  of  his  wounds,  must  needs  grow  weaker  and  weaker. 
Then  Apollyon,  espying  his  opportunity,  began  to  gather 
up  close  to  Christian,  and  wrestling  with  him,  gave  him  a 
dreadful  fall;  and  with  that  Christian's  sword 

Apollyon  casteth 

down  to  the  flew  out  of  his  hand.     Then  said  Apollvon,  I 

ground  Christian.  £     ,  .  ,        .   ,       ,  "      .       . 

am  sure  01  thee  now !  and  wTith  that,  he  had 
almost  pressed  him  to  death,  so  that  Christian  began  to 
despair  of  life.  But  as  God  would  have  it,  while  Apollyon 
was  fetching  of  his  last  blow,  thereby  to  make  a  full  end 
of  this  good  man,  Christian  nimbly  reached  out  his  hand 
Micah  vii.  8.  ^or  ms  sword,  and  caught  it,  saying,  "Rejoice 

not  against  me,  O  mine  enemy !  when  I  fall,  I 
victory  over  shall  arise";  and  with  that  gave  him  a  deadly 

thrust,  which  made  him  give  back,  as  one  that 
had  received  his  mortal  wound.  Christian  perceiving  that, 


THE  PILGRIM'S   PROGRESS  61 

made  at  him  again,  saying,  "Nay,  in  all  these  things  we  are 
more  than  conquerors."     And  with  that  Apol- 

Kom.  viu.  37. 

Ivon  spread  forth  his  dragon's  wings,  and  sped 

James  i».  7.  '  .      . 

him  away,  that  Christian  saw  him  no  more. 
In  this  combat  no  man  can  imagine,  unless  he  had  seen 
and  heard  as  I  did,  what  yelling,  and  hideous  roaring  Apol- 
lyon  made  all  the  time  of  the  fight, — he  spake 

A  brief  relation         J  \ 

of  the  combat  by  like  a  dragon;  and  on  the  other  side,  what  sighs 
and  groans  burst  from  Christian's  heart.  I 
never  saw  him  all  the  while  give  him  so  much  as  one  pleas- 
ant look,  till  he  perceived  he  had  wounded  Apollyon  with 
his  two-edged  sword;  then  indeed  he  did  smile,  and  look 
upward;  but  'twas  the  dreadfullest  sight  that  ever  I  saw. 

So  when  the  battle  was  over,  Christian  said, 

Christian  gives  . 

God  thanks  for       I  will  here  give  thanks  to  him  that  hath  deliv- 
ered me  out  of  the  mouth  of  the  lion;  to  him 
that  did  help  me  against  Apollyon:  and  so  he  did,  saying — 

Great  Beelzebub,  the  captain  of  this  fiend, 
Design' d  my  ruin;  therefore  to  this  end 
He  sent  him  harness'd  out,  and  he  with  rage 
That  hellish  was,  did  fiercely  me  engage: 
But  blessed  Michael  helped  me,  and  I, 
By  dint  of  sword,  did  quickly  make  him  fly; 
Therefore  to  him  let  me  give  lasting  praise, 
And  thank  and  bless  his  holy  name  always. 

Then  there  came  to  him  a  hand,  with  some  of  the  leaves 
of  the  tree  of  life,  the  which  Christian  took,  and  applied  to 
the  wounds  that  he  had  received  in  the  battle, 
and    was    healed    immediately.     He    also    sat 
d°wn  in  that  place  to  eat  bread,  and  to  drink 
of  the  bottle  that  was  given  him  a  little  before; 
so  being  refreshed,  he  addressed  himself  to  his  journey,  with 


1  A  more  unequal  match  can  hardly  be: 
Christian  must  fight  an  angel;  but  you  see 
The  valiant  man  by  handling  sword  and  shield, 
Doth  make  him,  tho'  a  dragon,  quit  the  field. 


62  THE   PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

his  sword  drawn  in  his  hand,  for  he  said,  I  know  not  but 
some  other  enemy  may  be  at  hand.  But  he  met  with  no 
other  affront  from  Apollyon,  quite  through  this  valley. 

Now  at  the  end  of  this  valley  was  another,  called  the  Val- 
ley of  the  Shadow  of  Death,  and  Christian  must  needs  go 
.        through  it,  because  the  way  to  the  Celestial 

The  I  alley  of  . 

the  Shadow  of       City  lay  through  the  midst  of  it.     Now  this 

Death.  ,.  ,.  ,  „.. 

valley  is  a  very  solitary  place.     The  prophet 

Jeremiah  thus  describes  it:  "A  wilderness,  a  land  of  deserts 

and   of  pits,   a  land   of  drought,   and   of   the 

Jer.  n.  6. 

shadow  of  death;  a  land  that  no  man"  (but  a 
Christian)  "passeth  through,  and  where  no  man  dwelt." 

Now  here  Christian  was  worse  put  to  it  than  in  his  fight 
with  Apollyon,  as  by  the  sequel  you  shall  see. 

I  saw  then  in  my  dream,  that  when  Christian 

fh?s£efg™  °f      was  got  to  the  borders  of  the  Shadow  of  Death, 

bNumb  xiii  there  met  him  two  men,  children  of  them  that 

brought  up  an  evil  report  of  the  good  land, 

making  haste  to  go  back;  to  whom  Christian  spake  as  follows: 

CHR.     Whither  are  you  going  ? 

MEN.  They  said,  Back,  back;  and  we  would  have  you  to 
do  so  too,  if  either  life  or  peace  is  prized  by  you. 

CHR.     Why,  what's  the  matter?  said  Christian. 

MEN.  Matter!  said  they;  we  were  going  that  way  as 
you  are  going,  and  went  as  far  as  we  durst;  and  indeed  we 
were  almost  past  coming  back,  for  had  we  gone  a  little  fur- 
ther, we  had  not  been  here  to  bring  the  news  to  thee. 

CHR.     But  what  have  you  met  with  ?  said  Christian. 

MEN.     Why,  we  were  almost  in  the  Valley 
Si^io.          of  the  Shadow  of  Death,  but  that  by  good 
hap   we  looked   before   us,   and  saw  the  dan- 
ger before  we  came   to   it. 

CHR.     But  what  have  you  seen  ?  said  Christian. 

MEN.  Seen !  why  the  valley  itself,  which  is  as  dark  as 
pitch;  we  also  saw  there  the  hobgoblins,  satyrs,  and  dragons 


THE   PILGRIM'S   PROGRESS  63 

of  the  pit:  we  heard  also  in  that  valley  a  continual  howling 
and  yelling,  as  of  a  people  under  unutterable  misery,  who 
there  sat  bound  in  affliction  and  irons;  and  over  that  valley 

hung  the  discouf aging  clouds  of  confusion, 
Ckaplx?i&  death  also  doth  ahvays  spread  his  wings  over 

it:  in  a  word,  it  is  every  whit  dreadful,  being 
utterly  without  order. 

CHR.     Then  said  Christian,  I  perceive  not 

yet,  by  what  you  have  said,  but  that  this  is 
my  way  to  the  desired  haven. 

MEN.     Be  it  thy  way,  we  will  not  choose  it  for  ours.     So 

they  parted,  and  Christian  went  on  his  way,  but  still  with  his 

sword  drawn  in  his  hand,  for  fear  lest  he  should  be  assaulted. 

I  saw  then  in  my  dream,  so  far  as  this  valley  reached, 

there  was  on  the  right  hand  a  very  deep  ditch;  that  ditch*  is 

it  into  which  the  blind  have  led  the  blind  in 

Ps.  Ixix.  14. 

all  ages,  and  have  both  there  miserably  per- 
ished. Again,  behold  on  the  left  hand,  there  was  a  very 
dangerous  quag,  into  which,  if  even  a  good  man  falls,  he  can 
find  no  bottom  for  his  foot  to  stand  on.  Into  that -quag 
King  David  once  did  fall,  and  had  no  doubt  therein  been 
smothered,  had  not  He  that  is  able  plucked  him  out. 

The  pathway  was  here  also  exceeding  narrow,  and  there- 
fore good  Christian  was  the  more  put  to  it;  for  when  he 
sought  in  the  dark  to  shun  the  ditch  on  the  one  hand,  he  was 
ready  to  tip  over  into  the  mire  on  the  other;  also  when«  he 
sought  to  escape  the  mire,  without  great  carefulness  he 
would  be  ready  to  fall  into  the  ditch.  Thus  he  went  on, 
and  I  heard  him  here  sigh  bitterly;  for,  besides  the  dangers 
mentioned  above,  the  pathway  was  here  so  dark,  that  oft- 
times  when  he  lift  up  his  foot  to  set  forward,  he  knew  not 
where,  or  upon  what  he  should  set  it  next.1 


1  Poor  man!  where  art  thou  now?  thy  day  is  night. 
Good  man,  be  not  cast  down,  thou  yet  art  right: 
Thy  way  to  heaven  lies  by  the  gates  of  hell; 
Cheer  up,  hold  out,  with  thee  it  shall  go  well. 


C4  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

About  the  midst  of  this  valley,  I  perceived  the  mouth  of 
hell  to  be,  and  it  stood  also  hard  by  the  wayside.  Now 
thought  Christian,  what  shall  I  do?  And  ever  and  anon 
the  flame  and  smoke  would  come  out  in  such  abundance, 
with  sparks  and  hideous  noises  (things  that  cared  not  for 
Christian's  sword,  as  did  Apollyon  before),  that  he  was 
forced  to  put  up  his  sword,  and  betake  himself  to  another 
weapon,  called  All-prayer;  so  he  cried  in  my  hearing,  "O 
Lord,  I  beseech  thee,  deliver  mv  soul."  Thus 

Eph.  vi.  18. 

he  went  on  a  great  while,  yet  still  the  flames 

would  be  reaching  towards  him:  also  he  heard 

doleful  voices,  and  rushings  to  and  fro,  so  that  sometimes 

he  thought  he  should  be  torn  in  pieces,  or  trodden  down  like 

mire  in  the  streets.     This  frightful  sight  was  seen,  and  these 

dreadful  noises  were  heard  by  him  for  several  miles  together: 

and  coming  to  a  place  where  he  thought  he  heard  a  company 

of  fiends  coming  forward  to  meet  him,  he  stopped,  and  began 

to  muse  what  he  had  best  to  do.     Sometimes  he  had  half  a 

thought  to  go  back.     Then  again  he  thought 

Christian  put  to 

a  stand,  but  for  a    he  might  be   half -way  through  the  valley;  he 
remembered    also    how    he    had    already    van- 
quished many  a  danger,  and  that  the  danger  of  going  back 
might  be  much  more  than  for  to  go  forward;  so  he  resolved 
to  go  on.     Yet  the  fiends  seemed  to  come  nearer  and  nearer; 
but  when  they  were  come  even  almost  at  him,  he  cried  out 
with  a  most  vehement  voice,  "I  will  walk  in  the  strength  of 
the  Lord  God";  so  they  gave  back,  and  came  no  further. 
One  thing  I  would  not  let  slip,  I  took  notice  that  now  poor 
Christian  was  so  confounded,  that  he  did  not 

Christian  made        .  ,  .  .  ,      ,          T  ,   ., 

believe  that  know  his  own  voice.     And  thus  I  perceived  it : 

blasphemies,          Just  when  he  was  come  over  against  the  mouth 
s^tanS  of  tne  burning  pit,  one  of  the  wicked  ones  got 

Smtoehfsdmind        behind  him,  and  stepped  up  softly  to  him,  and 
whisperingly   suggested    many    grievous    blas- 
phemies to  him,  which  he  verily  thought  had  proceeded  from 
his  own  mind.     This  put  Christian  more  to  it  than  anything 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  65 

that  he  met  with  before,  even  to  think  that  he  should  now 
blaspheme  him  that  he  loved  so  much  before;  yet  if  he  could 
have  helped  it,  he  would  not  have  done  it ;  but  he  had  not  the 
discretion  either  to  stop  his  ears,  or  to  know  from  whence 
those  blasphemies  came. 

When  Christian  had  travelled  in  this  disconsolate  condi- 
tion some  considerable  time,  he  thought  he  heard  the  voice 
...  of  a  man,  as  going  before  him,  saying,  "Though 

I  walk  through  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of 
Death,  I  will  fear  none  ill,  for  thou  art  with  me." 

Then  was  he  glad,  and  that  for  these  reasons: 

First,  Because  he  gathered  from  thence  that  some  who 
feared  God  were  in  this  valley  as  well  as  himself. 

Secondly,  for  that  he  perceived  God  was  with  them, 
though  in  that  dark  and  dismal  state;  and 

Job  ix.  10. 

why  not,  thought  he,  with  me,  though  by 
reason  of  the  impediment  that  attends  this  place,  I  cannot 
perceive  it? 

Thirdly,  For  that  he  hoped  (could  he  overtake  them)  to 
have  company  by  and  by.  So  he  went  on,  and  called  to 

him  that  w^s  before,  but  he  knew  not  what  to 

L  hristian  glad  at 

break  of  dan .         answer,  for  tnat  he  also  thought  himself  to  be 
alone.     And  by  and  by  the  day  broke;  then 
said  Christian,  "He  hath  turned  the  shadow  of  death  into 
the  morning." 

Now  morning  being  come,  he  looked  back,  not  out  of  de- 
sire to  return,  but  to  see,  by  the  light  of  the  day,  what  haz- 
ards he  had  gone  through  in  the  dark.  So  he  saw  more  per- 
fectly the  ditch  that  was  on  the  one  hand,  and  the  quag  that 
was  on  the  other;  also  how  narrow  the  way  was  which  led 
betwixt  them  both:  also  now  he  saw  the  hobgoblins,  and 
satyrs,  and  dragons  of  the  pit,  but  all  afar  off;  for  after  break 
of  day  they  came  not  nigh;  yet  they  were  discovered  to  him, 
according  to  that  which  is  written,  "He  dis- 

Job  xti.  22. 

coveret.h  deep  things  out  or  darkness,  and 
bringeth  out  to  light  the  shadow  of  death." 


60  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

Now  was  Christian  much  affected  with  his  deliverance 

from  all  the  dangers  of  his  solitary  way;  which  dangers, 

though  he  feared  them  more  before,  yet  he  saw 

The  tecond  part  i        ,.    i 

of  th\t  valley  them  more  clearly  now,  because  the  light  of 
the  day  made  them  conspicuous  to  him.  And 
about  this  time  the  sun  was  rising,  and  this  was  another 
mercy  to  Christian;  for  you  must  note,  that  though  the  first 
part  of  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death  was  dangerous, 
yet  this  second  part  which  he  was  yet  to  go,  was,  if  possible, 
far  more  dangerous:  for  from  the  place  where  he  now  stood, 
even  to  the  end  of  the  valley,  the  way  was  all  along  set  so 
full  of  snares,  traps,  gins,  and  nets  here,  and  so  full  of  pits, 
pitfalls,  deep  holes,  and  shelvings  down  there,  that  had  it 
now  been  dark,  as  it  was  when  he  came  the  first  part  of  the 
way,  had  he  had  a  thousand  souls,  they  had  in  reason  been 
cast  away;  but  as  I  said,  just  now  the  sun  was 

Job  xxix.  3. 

rising.  Then  said  he,  "His  candle  shineth  on 
my  head,  and  by  his  light  I  go  through  darkness." 

In  this  light  therefore,  he  came  to  the  end  of  the  valley. 
Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  at  the  end  of  this  valley  lay 
blood,  bones,  ashes,  and  mangled  bodies  of  men,  even  of 
pilgrims  that  had  gone  this  way  formerly:  And  while  I  was 
musing  what  should  be  the  reason,  I  espied  a  little  before  me 
a  cave,  where  two  giants,  Pope  and  Pagan,  dwelt  in  old  time, 
by  whose  power  and  tyranny  the  men  whose  bones,  blood, 
ashes,  etc.,  lay  there,  were  cruelly  put  to  death.  But  by  this 
place  Christian  went  without  much  danger,  whereat  I  some- 
what wondered ;  but  I  have  learnt  since,  that  Pagan  has  been 
dead  many  a  day;  and  as  for  the  other,  though  he  be  yet 
alive,  he  is,  by  reason  of  age,  and  also  of  the  many  shrewd 
brushes  that  he  met  with  in  his  younger  days,  grown  so 
crazy,  and  stiff  in  his  joints,  that  he  can  now  do  little  more 
than  sit  in  his  cave's  mouth,  grinning  at  pilgrims  as  they  go 
by,  and  biting  his  nails,  because  he  cannot  come  at  them. 

So  I  saw  that  Christian  went  on  his  way,  yet  at  the  sight 
of  the  old  man  that  sat  in  the  mouth  of  the  cave,  he  could 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  67 

not  tell  what  to  think,  specially  because  he  spake  to  him, 
though  he  could  not  go  after  him,  saying,  You  will  never 
mend,  till  more  of  you  be  burned:  but  he  held  his  peace,  and 
set  a  good  face  on't;  and  so  went  by  and  catched  no  hurt. 
Then  sang  Christian: 

O  world  of  wonders  !  (I  can  say  no  less) 

That  I  should  be  preserved  in  that  distress 

That  I  have  met  with  here  !     O  blessed  be 

That  hand  that  from  it  hath  deliver'  d  me  ! 

Dangers  in  darkness,  devils,  hell,  and  sin 

Did  compass  me,  while  I  this  vale  was  in: 

Yea,  snares,  and  pits,  and  traps,  and  nets  did  lie 

My  path  about,  that  worthless  silly  I 

Might  have  been  catch'd,  entangled,  and  cast  down: 

But  since  I  live,  let  JESUS  wear  the  crown. 

Now  as  Christian  went  on  his  way,  he  came  to  a  little 
ascent,  which  was  cast  up  on  purpose  that  pilgrims  might 
see  before  them.  Up  there  therefore  Christian  went,  and 
looking  forward,  he  saw  Faithful  before  him,  upon  his  jour- 
ney. Then  said  Christian  aloud,  Ho,  ho,  so-ho;  stay,  and  I 
will  be  your  companion.  At  that  Faithful  looked  behind 
him;  to  whom  Christian  cried  again,  Stay,  stay,  till  I  come 
up  to  you:  but  Faithful  answered,  No,  I  am  upon  my  life, 
and  the  avenger  of  blood  is  behind  me.  At  this  Christian 
was  somewhat  moved,  and  putting  to  all  his  strength,  he 
quicklv  got  up  with  Faithful,  and  did  also 

Christian  '         . 

overtakes  overrun  him,  so  the  last  was  first.     Then  did 

Christian  vaingloriously  smile,  because  he  had 
gotten  the  start  of  his  brother;  but  not  taking  good  heed  to 
his  feet,  he  suddenly  stumbled  and  fell,  and  could  not  rise 
again,  until  Faithful  came  up  to  help  him. 

Then  I  saw  in.  my  dream,  they  went  very 

Christian  s  fall         i        •       i  .1  i    i       j  •*• 

makes  Faithful      lovingly  on  together,  and  had  sweet  discourse 


ingly0  together.     °^  a^  things  that  had  happened  to  them  in  their 

pilgrimage;  and  thus  Christian  began: 
CHR.     My  honored  and  well-beloved  brother  Faithful,  I 


08  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

ain  glad  that  I  have  overtaken  you;  and  that  God  has  so 
tempered  our  spirits,  that  we  can  walk  as  companions  in 
this  so  pleasant  a  path. 

FAITH.  I  had  thought,  dear  friend,  to  have  had  your 
company  quite  from  our  town,  but  you  clid  get  the  start  of 
me;  wherefore  I  was  forced  to  come  thus  much  of  the  way 
alone. 

CHR.  How  long  did  you  stay,  in  the  City  of  Destruction 
before  you  set  out  after  me  on  your  pilgrimage  ? 

FAITH.     Till  I  could  stay  no  longer;  for  there 

the  country  from     was  great  talk  presently  after  you  were  gone 

™ame.ethey  out<  that  our  cit^  would   in  short  time  with 

fire  from  heaven  be  burned  down  to  the  ground . 

CHR.     What !  did  your  neighbors  talk  so  ? 

FAITH.     Yes,  'twas  for  a  while  in  everybody's  mouth. 

CHR.  What,  and  did  no  more  of  them  but  you  come  out 
to  escape  the  danger? 

FAITH.  Though  there  was,  as  I  said,  a  great  talk  there 
about,  yet  I  do  not  think  they  did  firmly  believe  it.  For  in 
the  heat  of  the  discourse,  I  heard  some  of  them  deridingly 
speak  of  you,  and  of  your  desperate  journey  (for  so  they 
called  this  your  pilgrimage),  but  I  did  believe,  and  do  still, 
that  the  end  of  our  city  will  be  with  fire  and  brimstone  from 
above;  and  therefore  I  have  made  mine  escape. 

CHR.     Did  you  hear  no  talk  of  Neighbor  Pliable  ? 

FAITH.  Yes,  Christian,  I  heard  that  he  followed  you  till 
he  came  at  the  Slough  of  Despond,  where,  as  some  said,  he 
fell  in;  but  he  would  not  be  known  to  have  so  done:  but  I 
am  sure  he  was  soundly  bedabbled  with  that  kind  of  dirt. 

CHR.     And  what  said  the  neighbors  to  him? 

FAITH.     He  hath,  since  his  going  back,  been  had  greatly 
in  derision,  and  that  among  all  sorts  of  people: 

How  Pliable  was 

accounted  of          some  do  mock  and  despise  him,  and  scarce  will 

when  he  got  home.  .    ,  .  ,          TT  . . 

any  set  him  on  work.     He  is  now  seven  times 
worse  than  if  he  had  never  gone  out  of  the  city. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  69 

CHR.  But  why  should  they  be  so  set  against  him,  since 
they  also  despise  the  way  that  he  forsook? 

FAITH.     Oh,  they  say,  Hang  him,  he  is  a  turncoat,  he  was 
not  true  to  his  profession.     I  think  God  has 

Jer.  xxix.  18,  19.  .... 

stirred  up  even  his  enemies  to  hiss  at  him,  and 
make  him  a  proverb,  because  he  hath  forsaken  the  way. 
CHR.     Had  you  no  talk  with  him  before  you  came  out? 
FAITH.     I  met  him  once  in  the  streets,  but  he  leered  away 
on  the  other  side,  as  one  ashamed  of  what  he  had  done;  so 
I  spake  not  to  him. 

CHR.     Well,  at  my  first  setting  out,  I  had  hopes  of  that 
man;  but  now  I  fear  he  will  perish  in  the  overthrow  of  the 
city,  for  it  is  happened  to  him  according  to  the 
0'    true  proverb,  "The  dog  is  turned  to  his  vomit 
again;  and  the  sow  that  was  washed  to  her 
wallowing  in  the  mire." 

FAITH.  They  are  my  fears  of  him  too:  But  who  can  hin- 
der that  which  will  be  ? 

CHR.  Well,  Neighbor  Faithful,  said  Christian,  let  us 
leave  him,  and  talk  of  things  that  more  immediately  concern 
ourselves.  Tell  me  now,  what  you  have  met  with  in  the 
way  as  you  came ;  for  I  know  you  have  met  with  some  things, 
or  else  it  may  be  writ  for  a  wonder. 

Faithful  FAITH.     I   escaped   the   slough   that   I   per- 

assaulted  by          ceived  you  fell  into,  and  got  up  to  the  gate 

without  that  danger;  only  I  met  with  one  whose 

name  was  Wanton,  that  had  like  to  have  done  me  a  mischief. 

CHR.     'Twas  well  you  escaped  her  net;  Joseph  was  hard 

put  to  it  by  her,  and  he  escaped  her  as  you  did; 

Gen.  xxxix.  11-13.   ^  J  ,  .        ,  .       . 

but  it  had  like  to  have  cost  him  his  life.     But 
what  did  she  do  to  you  ? 

FAITH.  You  cannot  think  (but  that  you  know  some- 
thing) what  a  flattering  tongue  she  had;  she  lay  at  me 
hard  to  turn  aside  with  her,  promising  me  all  manner  of 
content. 


70  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

CHE.     Nay,  she  did  not  promise  you  the  content  of  a 
good  conscience. 

FAITH.     You  know  what  I  mean,  all  carnal  and  fleshly 
content. 

CHR.     Thank   God   you   have   escaped   her: 
The  abhorred  of  the  Lord  shall  fall  into  her 
ditch. 

FAITH.     Nay,  I  know  not  whether  I  did  wholly  escape 
her  or  no. 

CHR.     Why,  I  trow  you  did  not  consent  to  her  desires  ? 
FAITH.     No,  not  to  defile  myself;  for  I  remembered  an 
old  writing  that  I  had  seen,  which  saith,  "Her 
5oTaJ*/'i  steps  take  hold  of  hell."     So  I  shut  mine  eyes, 

because  I  would  not  be  bewitched  with  her 
looks:  then  she  railed  on  me,  and  I  went  my  way. 

CHR.     Did  you  meet  with  no  other  assault  as  you  came? 

FAITH.     When  I  came  to  the  foot  of  the  hill  called  Diffi- 

culty, I  met  with  a  very  aged  man,  who  asked  me  what  I 

was,  and  whither  bound.     I  told  him  that  I 

XJtattrK*.1"  was   a   Pilg»m,   going   to   the   Celestial   City. 

Then  said  the  old  man,  Thou  lookest  like  an 

honest  fellow;  wilt  thou  be  content  to  dwell  with  me  for  the 

wages  that  I  shall  give  thee  ?     Then  I  asked  him  his  name, 

and  where  he  dwelt.     He  said  his  name  was  Adam  the  First, 

and  I  dwell  in  the  town  of  Deceit.     I  asked 

Eph.  iv.  22.  . 

him  then  what  was  his  work,  and  what  the 
wages  that  he  would  give.  He  told  me  that  his  work  was 
many  delights:  and  his  wages,  that  I  should  be  his  heir  at 
last.  I  further  asked  him  what  house  he  kept,  and  what 
other  servants  he  had.  So  he  told  me  that  his  house  was 
maintained  with  all  the  dainties  in  the  world;  and  that  his 
servants  were  those  of  his  own  begetting.  Then  I  asked 
w  many  children  he  had.  He  said  that  he 


6 

had  but  three  daughters:   "The  Lust  of  the 

Flesh,  the  Lust  of  the  Eyes,  and  the  Pride  of  Life,"  and  that 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  71 

I  should  marry  them  if  I  would.  Then  I  asked  how  long  time 
he  would  have  me  live  with  him.  And  he  told  me,  As  long 
as  he  lived  himself. 

CHR.  Well,  and  what  conclusion  carne  the  old  man  and 
you  to,  at  last? 

FAITH.  Why,  at  first,  I  found  myself  somewhat  inclinable 
to  go  with  the  man,  for  I  thought  he  spake  very  fair;  but, 
looking  in  his  forehead  as  I  talked  with  him,  I  saw  there 
written,  "Put  off  the  old  man  with  his  deeds." 

CHR.     And  how  then? 

FAITH.  Then  it  came  burning  hot  into  my  mind,  what- 
ever he  said,  and  however  he  flattered,  when  he  got  me 
home  to  his  house,  he  would  sell  me  for  a  slave.  So  I  bid 
him  forbear  to  talk,  for  I  would  not  come  near  the  door  of 
his  house.  Then  he  reviled  me,  and  told  me  that  he  would 
send  such  a  one  after  me,  that  should  make  my  way  bitter 
to  my  soul.  So  I  turned  to  go  away  from  him;  but  just  as 
I  turned  away  to  go  thence,  I  felt  him  take  hold  of  my  flesh, 
and  give  me  such  a  deadly  twitch  back,  that  I  thought  he 
had  pulled  part  of  me  after  himself.  This 
made  me  cry,  "O  wretched  man  !"  So  I  went 
on  my  way  up  the  hill. 

Now  when  I  had  got  about  half-way  up,  I  looked  behind 
me,  and  saw  one  coming  after  me,  swift  as  the  wind;  so  he 
overtook  me  just  about  the  place  where  the  settle  stands. 

CHR.  Just  there,  said  Christian,  did  I  sit  down  to  rest 
me;  but.  being  overcome  with  sleep,  I  there  lost  this  roll 
out  of  my  bosom. 

FAITH.  But,  good  brother,  hear  me  out.  So  soon  as  the 
man  overtook  me,  he  was  but  a  word  and  a  blow;  for  down 
he  knocked  me,  and  laid  me  for  dead.  But  when  I  was  a 
little  come  to  myself  again,  I  asked  him  wherefore  he  served 
me  so.  He  said,  Because  of  my  secret  inclining  to  Adam 
the  First;  and  .with  that  he  struck  me  another  deadly  blow 
on  the  breast,  and  beat  me  down  backward,  so  I  lay  at  his 


72  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

-v 

foot  as  dead  as  before.  So  when  I  came  to  myself  again,  I 
cried  him  mercy;  but  he  said,  I  know  not  how  to  show  mercy: 
and  with  that  he  knocked  me  down  again.  He  had  doubt- 
less made  an  end  of  me,  but  that  one  came  by,  and  bid  him 
forbear. 

CHR.     Who  was  that,  that  bid  him  forbear? 

FAITH.  I  did  not  know  him  at  first,  but  as  he  went  by, 
I  perceived  the  holes  in  his  hands  and  in  his  side;  then  I 
concluded  that  he  was  our  Lord.  So  I  went  up  the  hill. 

CHR.     That    man    that    overtook    you    was 
JfoS*esmper  °f       Moses :  he  spareth  none,  neither  knoweth  he 
how  to  show  mercy  to  those  that  transgress 
his  law. 

FAITH.  I  know  it  very  well;  it  was  not  the  first  time  that 
he  has  met  with  me.  'Twas  he  that  came  to  me  when  I 
dwelt  securely  at  home,  and  that  told  me  he  would  burn  my 
house  over  my  head  if  I  stayed  there. 

CHR.  But  did  you  not  see  the  house  that  stood  there  on 
the  top  of  that  hill,  on  the  side  of  which  Moses  met  you  ? 

FAITH.  Yes,  and  the  lions  too,  before  I  came  at  it;  but 
for  the  lions,  I  think  they  were  asleep,  for  it  was  about  noon; 
and  because  I  had  so  much  of  the  day  before  me,  I  passed 
by  the  porter,  and  came  down  the  hill. 

CHR.  He  told  me  indeed  that  he  saw-  you  go  by,  but  I 
wish  you  had  called  at  the  house;  for  they  would  have 
showed  you  so  many  rarities,  that  you  would  scarce  have 
forgot  them  to  the  day  of  your  death.  But  pray  tell  me, 
did  you  meet  nobody  in  the  Valley  of  Humility  ? 

FAITH.     Yes,    I    met   with   one   Discontent,    who   would 

willingly  have  persuaded  me  to  go  back  again  with  him ;  his 

reason  was,  for  that  the  valley  was  altogether 

assaulted  by          without   honor.     He  told  me  moreover,  That 

there5  to  go,  was  the  way  to  disobey  all  my 

friends,    as    Pride,    Arrogancy,    Self-conceit,    Worldly-glory, 

with  others,  who  he  knew,  as  he  said,  would  be  very  much 


THE  PILGRIM'S   PROGRESS  73 

offended  if  I  made  such  a  fool  of  myself,  as  to  wade  through 
this  valley. 

CHR.     Well,  and  how  did  you  answer  him? 

FAITH.  I  told  him,  That  although  all  these  that  he  named 
might  claim  kindred  of  me,  and  that  rightly  (for  indeed  they 
were  my  relations  according  to  the  flesh),  yet 
answer  to  since  I  became  a  pilgrim  they  have  disowned 

me,  as  I  also  have  rejected  them;  and  therefore 
they  were  to  me  now  no  more  than  if  they  had  never  been 
of  my  lineage.  I  told  him,  moreover,  That  as  to  this  val- 
ley, he  had  quite  misrepresented  the  thing;  for  "before  honor 
is  humility,"  and  "a  haughty  spirit  before  a  fall."  There- 
fore, said  I,  I  had  rather  go  through  this  valley  to  the  honor 
that  was  so  accounted  by  the  wisest,  than  choose  that  which 
he  esteemed  most  worthy  our  affections. 

CHR.     Met  you  with  nothing  else  in  that  valley? 

FAITH.  Yes,  I  met  with  Shame;  but  of  all  the  men  that 
I  met  with  in  my  pilgrimage,  he  I  think  bears 

withSShameUed        the    wrong    name-      The    other    would    be    said 

nay,  after  a  little  argumentation   (and  some- 
what else),  but  this  bold-faced  Shame  would  never  have  done. 
CHR.     Why,  what  did  he  say  to  you  ? 

FAITH.  What !  why,  he  objected  against  religion  itself;  he 
said  it  was  a  pitiful,  low,  sneaking  business  for  a  man  to  mind 
religion;  he  said  that  a  tender  conscience  was  an  unmanly 
thing;  and  that  for  a  man  to  watch  over  his  words  and  ways, 
so  as  to  tie  up  himself  from  that  hectoring  liberty  that  the 
brave  spirits  of  the  times  accustom  themselves  unto,  would 

make  him  the  ridicule  of  the  times.  He  ob- 
Ckap.  in.  is.  jected  also,  That  but  few  of  the  mighty,  rich, 

or  wise  were  ever  of  my  opinion;  nor  any  of 
them,  before  they  were  persuaded  to  be  fools,  and  to  be  of  a 
voluntary  fondness  to  venture  the  loss  of  all,  for  nobody  else 
knows  what.  He  moreover  objected  the  base  and  low  estate 
and  condition  of  those  that  were  chiefly  the  pilgrims  of  the 


74  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

times  in  which  they  lived;  also  their  ignorance  and  want  of 

understanding  in  all  natural  science.     Yea,  he 

John  j&  488'       did  hold  me  to  it  at  that  rate  also,  about  a  great 

many  more  things  than  here  I  relate;  as,  that 

it  was  a  shame  to  sit  whining  and  mourning  under  a  sermon, 

and  a  shame  to  come  sighing  and  groaning  home;  that  it 

was    a   shame  to    ask    my  neighbor    forgiveness   for    petty 

faults,  or  to  make  restitution  where  I  had  taken  from  any. 

He  said  also  that  religion  made  a  man  grow  strange  to  the 

great,  because  of  a  few  vices  (which  he  called  by  finer  names), 

and  made  him  own  and  respect  the  base,  because  of  the  same 

religious  fraternity.     And  is  not  this,  said  he,  a  shame? 

CHR.     And  what  did  you  say  to  him  ? 

FAITH.     Say !  I  could  not  tell  what  to  say  at  first.     Yea, 

he  put  me  so  to  it  that  my  blood  came  up  in  my  face;  even 

this  Shame  fetched  it  up,  and  had  almost  beat 

Luke  xvi.  15.  .      . 

me  quite  on.  J3ut  at  last  I  began  to  consider. 
That  "that  which  is  highly  esteemed  among  men,  is  had  in 
abomination  with  God."  And  I  thought  again,  This  Shame 
tells  me  what  men  are,  but  it  tells  me  nothing  what  God,  or 
the  Word  of  God  is.  And  I  thought,  moreover,  That  at  the 
day  of  doom,  we  shall  not  be  doomed  to  death  or  life  accord- 
ing to  the  hectoring  spirits  of  the  world,  but  according  to  the 
wisdom  and  law  of  the  Highest.  Therefore  thought  I,  what 
God  says,  is  best — indeed  is  best,  though  all  the  men  in  the 
world  are  against  it.  Seeing  then  that  God  prefers  His 
religion,  seeing  God  prefers  a  tender  conscience,  seeing  they 
that  make  themselves  fools  for  the  kingdom  of  heaven  are 
wisest;  and  that  the  poor  man  that  loveth  Christ  is  richer 
than  the  greatest  man  in  the  world  that  hates  him;  Shame, 
depart,  thou  art  an  enemy  to  my  salvation:  shall  I  entertain 
thee  against  my  sovereign  Lord  ?  How  then  shall  I  look  him 

in  the  face  at  his  coming?     Should  I  now  be 

Mark  vm.  38. 

ashamed  of  his  ways  and  servants,  how  can  I 
expect  the  blessing?  But  indeed  this  Shame  was  a  bold  vil- 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  75 

lain;  I  could  scarce  shake  him  out  of  my  company;  yea,  he 
would  be  haunting  of  me,  and  continually  whispering  me  in 
the  ear,  with  some  one  or  other  of  the  infirmities  that  attend 
religion:  but  at  last  I  told  him,  'Twas  but  in  vain  to  attempt 
further  in  this  business;  for  those  things  that  he  disdained, 
in  those  did  I  see  most  glory:  and  so  at  last  I  got  past  this 
importunate  one.  And  when  I  had  shaken  him  off,  then  I 
began  to  sing: 

The  trials  that  those  men  do  meet  withal 

That  are  obedient  to  the  heavenly  call, 

Are  manifold,  and  suited  to  the  flesh, 

And  come,  and  come,  and  come  again  afresh; 

That  now,  or  some  time  else,  we  by  them  may 

Be  taken,  overcome,  and  cast  away. 

Oh,  let  the  pilgrims,  let  the  pilgrims  then, 

Be  vigilant,  and  quit  themselves  like  men. 

CHR.  I  am  glad,  my  brother,  that  thou  didst  withstand 
this  villain  so  bravely;  for  of  all,  as  thou  sayest,  I  think  he 
has  the  wrong  name;  for  he  is  so  bold  as  to  follow  us  in  the 
streets,  and  to  attempt  to  put  us  to  shame  before  all  men; 
that  is,  to  make  us  ashamed  of  that  which  is  good.  But  if 
he  was  not  himself  audacious,  he  would  never  attempt  to  do 
as  he  does;  but  let  us  still  resist  him;  for,  notwithstanding 
all  his  bravadoes,  he  promoteth  the  fool,  and 

Prov.  in.  35.  *• 

none  else.  "The  wise  shall  inherit  glory,  said 
Solomon,  "but  shame  shall  be  the  promotion  of  fools." 

FAITH.  I  think  we  must  cry  to  him  for  help  against 
Shame,  that  would  have  us  be  valiant  for  truth  upon  the 
earth. 

CHR.  You  say  true.  But  did  you  meet  nobody  else  in 
that  valley? 

FAITH.  No,  not  I;  for  I  had  sunshine  all  the  rest  of  the 
way  through  that,  and  also  through  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow 
of  Death. 

CHR.     'Twas  well  for  you ;  I  am  sure  it  fared  far  otherwise 


76  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

with  me.  I  had  for  a  long  season,  as  soon  almost  as  I  entered 
into  that  valley,  a  dreadful  combat  with  that  foul  fiend 
Apollyon;  yea,  I  thought  verily  he  would  have  killed  me, 
especially  when  he  got  me  down,  and  crushed  me  under  him, 
as  if  he  would  have  crushed  me  to  pieces.  For  as  he  threw 
me,  my  sword  flew  out  of  my  hand;  nay,  he  told  me  he  was 
sure  of  me:  but  I  cried  to  God,  and  he  heard  me,  and  deliv- 
ered me  out  of  all  my  troubles.  Then  I  entered  into  the 
Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death,  and  had  no  light  for  almost 
half  the  way  through  it.  I  thought  I  should  have  been 
killed  there,  over  and  over;  but  at  last  day  brake,  and  the 
sun  rose,  and  I  went  through  that  which  was  behind  with 
far  more  ease  and  quiet. 

Moreover,  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  as  they  went  on, 

Faithful,  as  he  chanced  to  look  on  one  side,  saw  a  man  whose 

name  is  Talkative,  walking  at  a  distance  be- 

deacrOed  s^e  them  (for  in  this  place,  there  was  room 

enough  for  them  all  to  walk).     He  was  a  tall 

man,  and  something  more  comely  at  a  distance  than  at  hand. 

To  this  man  Faithful  addressed  himself  in  this  manner: 

FAITH.  Friend,  whither  away?  Are  you  going  to  the 
heavenly  country? 

TALK.     I  am  going  to  the  same  place. 

FAITH.  That  is  well;  then  I  hope  we  may  have  your  good 
company. 

TALK.  With  a  very  good  will,  will  I  be  your  companion. 
FAITH.  Come  on  then,  and  let  us  go  to- 

Faitkful  and  , 

Talkative  enter       gether,  and  let  us  spend  our  time  in  discoursing 

discourse.  f    ,  .  ,  ~      ,  , 

of  things  that  are  profitable. 

TALK.     To  talk  of  things  that  are  good,  to  me  is  very 

acceptable,  with  you,  or  with  any  other;  and  I  am  glad  that 

I  have  met  with  those  that  incline  to  so  good 

Talkative  s 

dislike  of  bad        a  work.     For  to  speak  the  truth,  there  are  but 

discourse.  -.   , ,     .  /        , , 

few  that  care  thus  to  spend  their  time  (as  they 
are  hi  their  travels),  but  choose  much  rather  to  be  speaking 
of  things  to  no  profit;  and  this  hath  been  a  trouble  to  me. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  77 

FAITH.  That  is  indeed  a  thing  to  be  lamented;  for  what 
things  so  worthy  of  the  use  of  the  tongue  and  mouth  of  men 
on  earth,  as  are  the  things  of  the  God  of  heaven  ? 

TALK.  I  like  you  wonderful  well,  for  your  sayings  are 
full  of  conviction;  and  I  will  add,  What  thing  is  so  pleas- 
ant, and  what  so  profitable,  as  to  talk  of  the  things  of 
God? 

What  things  so  pleasant?  (that  is,  if  a  man  hath  any  de- 
light in  things  that  are  wonderful)  for  instance:  If  a  man 
doth  delight  to  talk  of  the  history  or  the  mystery  of  things; 
or  if  a  man  doth  love  to  talk  of  miracles,  wonders,  or  signs, 
where  shall  he  find  things  recorded  so  delightful,  and  so 
sweetly  penned,  as  in  the  holy  Scripture? 

FAITH.  That's  true;  but  to  be  profited  by  such  things  in 
our  talk  should  be  that  which  we  design. 

TALK.  That  it  is  that  I  said;  for  to  talk  of  such  things 
is  most  profitable;  for,  by  so  doing,  a  man  may  get  knowl- 
edge of  many  things;  as  of  the  vanity  of  earthly 
d£u^.9fiM  things>  and  the  benefit  of  things  above  (thus 
in  general) :  but  more  particularly,  by  this  a 
man  may  learn  the  necessity  of  the  new  birth,  the  insuffi- 
ciency of  our  works,  the  need  of  Christ's  righteousness,  etc. 
Besides,  by  this  a  man  may  learn  what  it  is  to  repent,  to  be- 
lieve, to  pray,  to  suffer,  or  the  like;  by  this,  also,  a  man  may 
learn  what  are  the  great  promises  and  consolations  of  the 
gospel,  to  his  own  comfort.  Further,  by  this  a  man  may 
learn  to  refute  false  opinions,  to  vindicate  the  truth,  and  also 
to  instruct  the  ignorant. 

FAITH.  All  this  is  true;  and  glad  am  I  to  hear  these  things 
from  you. 

TALK.  Alas !  the  want  of  this  is  the  cause  that  so  few 
understand  the  need  of  faith,  and  the  necessity  of  a  work 
of  grace  in  their  souls,  in  order  to  eternal  life;  but  ignorantly 
live  in  the  works  of  the  law,  by  which  a  man  can  by  no  means 
obtain  the  kingdom  of  heaven. 

FAITH.     But,  by  your  leave,  heavenly  knowledge  of  these 


78  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

is  the  gift  of  God;  no  man  attaineth  to  them  by  human  in- 
dustry, or  only  by  the  talk  of  them. 

TALK.     All  this  I  know  very  well,  for  a  man  can  receive 

nothing  except  it  be  given  him  from  heaven; 
talkative  a^  *s  °^  grace»  n°t  °f  works:  I  could  give  you  a 

hundred  Scriptures  for  the  confirmation  of  this. 
FAITH.     Well,  then,  said  Faithful,  what  is  that  one  thing 
that  we  shall  at  this  time  found  our  discourse  upon  ? 

TALK.  What  you  will:  I  will  talk  of  things  heavenly,  or 
things  earthly;  things  moral,  or  things  evangelical;  things 

sacred,  or  things  profane;  things  past,  or  things 
talkative  ^°  comej   things  foreign,   or  things  at  home; 

things  more  essential,  or  things  circumstantial; 
provided  that  all  be  done  to  our  profit. 

FAITH.     Now  did  Faithful  begin  to  wonder;  and  stepping 

to  Christian  (for  he  walked  all  this  while  by 
^°f^STW    himself),  he  said  to  him  (but  softly),  What  a 

brave  companion  have  we  got !     Surely  this 
man  will  make  a  very  excellent  pilgrim. 

Christian  makes         CHR.     At  this  Christian  modestly  smiled,  and 
a  discovery  of        said,  This  man  with  whom  you  are  so  taken 

Talkative,  telling 

Faithful  who  will  beguile  with  this  tongue  of  his  twenty  of 
them  that  know  him  not. 

FAITH.     Do  you  know  him,  then  ? 

CHR.     Know  him !     Yes,  better  than  he  knows  himself. 

FAITH.     Pray  what  is  he? 

CHR.  His  name  is  Talkative;  he  dwelleth  in  our  town;  I 
wonder  that  you  should  be  a  stranger  to  him,  only  I  consider 
that  our  town  is  large. 

FAITH.  Whose  son  is  he?  And  whereabout  doth  he 
dwell? 

CHR.  He  is  the  son  of  one  Say-well.  He  dwelt  in  Prating 
Row,  and  he  is  known  of  all  that  are  acquainted  with  him 
by  the  name  of  Talkative  in  Prating  Row;  and  notwithstand- 
ing his  fine  tongue,  he  is  but  a  sorry  fellow. 


THE  PILGRIM'S   PROGRESS  79 

FAITH.     Well,  he  seems  to  be  a  very  pretty  man. 

CHR.  That  is,  to  them  that  have  not  thorough  acquain- 
tance with  him,  for  he  is  best  abroad;  near  home  he  is  ugly 
enough.  Your  saying,  That  he  is  a  pretty  man,  brings  to 
my  mind  what  I  have  observed  in  the  work  of  the  painter, 
whose  pictures  show  best  at  a  distance;  but  very  near,  more 
unpleasing. 

FAITH.  But  I  am  ready  to  think  you  do  but  jest,  because 
you  smiled. 

CHR.  God  forbid  that  I  should  jest  (though  I  smiled)  in 
this  matter,  or  that  I  should  accuse  any  falsely;  I  will  give 
you  a  further  discovery  of  him :  This  man  is  for  any  company, 
and  for  any  talk;  as  he  talketh  now  with  you,  so  will  he  talk 
when  he  is  on  the  ale-bench:  and  the  more  drink  he  hath  in 
his  crown,  the  more  of  these  things  he  hath  in  his  mouth: 
Religion  hath  no  place  in  his  heart,  or  house,  or  conversation; 
all  he  hath,  lieth  in  his  tongue,  and  his  religion  is  to  make  a 
noise  therewith. 

FAITH.  Say  you  so !  Then  I  am  in  this  man  greatly  de- 
ceived. 

CHR.  Deceived  !  you  may  be  sure  of  it.  Remember  the 
proverb,  "They  say,  and  do  not";  but  "the  kingdom  of  God 
Matt  xxiii  3  *s  no^  *n  woro^»  but  m  power."  He  talketh  of 
i  Cor.  iv.  20.  prayer,  of  repentance,  of  faith,  and  of  the  new 
Talkative  talks,  birth;  but  he  knows  but  only  to  talk  of  them. 
I  have  been  in  his  family,  and  have  observed 
His  house  is  him  both  at  home  and  abroad ;  and  I  know 

empty  of  religion.          i      ,    T  /?U'-j.U  j.u         XT'      l. 

what  I  say  of  him  is  the  truth.     His  house  is 
as  empty  of  religion   as  the  white  of  an  egg  is  of  savor. 

There  is  there,  neither  prayer  nor  sign  of  repent- 
He  is  a  stain  to  „          .  ^11  •      i  •     i  •     i 

religion.  ance  for  sin;  yea,  the  brute  in  his  kind  serves 

God  far  better  than  he.  He  is  the  very  stain, 

goll  of°him  tt<rf  reProacn»  and  shame  of  religion  to  all  that  know 
him ;  it  can  hardly  have  a  good  word  in  all  that 

end  of  the  town  where  he  dwells,  through  him.     Thus  say 


80  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

the  common  people  that  know  him:  A  saint  abroad,  and  a 
devil  at  home:  His  poor  family  finds  it  so;  he  is  such  a  churl, 
such  a  railer  at,  and  so  unreasonable  with  his  servants,  that 
they  neither  know  how  to  do  for  or  speak  to 
M$*hL  him-  Men  tha*  have  any  dealings  with  him, 
say  it  is  better  to  deal  with  a  Turk  than  with 
him,  for  fairer  dealing  they  shall  have  at  their  hands. 
This  Talkative,  if  it  be  possible,  will  go  beyond  them,  de- 
fraud, beguile,  and  overreach  them.  Besides,  he  brings  up 
his  sons  to  follow  his  steps;  and  if  he  findeth  in  any  of  them 
a  foolish  timorousness  (for  so  he  calls  the  first  appearance  of 
a  tender  conscience)  he  calls  them  fools  and  blockheads;  and 
by  no  means  will  employ  them  in  much,  or  speak  to  their 
commendations  before  others.  For  my  part  I  am  of  opinion, 
that  he  has  by  his  wicked  life  caused  many  to  stumble  and 
fall;  and  will  be,  if  God  prevent  not,  the  ruin  of  many  more. 

FAITH.  Well,  my  brother,  I  am  bound  to  believe  you, 
not  only  because  you  say  you  know  him,  but  also  because 
like  a  Christian  you  make  your  reports  of  men.  For  I  can- 
not think  that  you  speak  these  things  of  ill  will,  but  because 
it  is  even  so  as  you  say. 

CHR.  Had  I  known  him  no  more  than  you,  I  might  per- 
haps have  thought  of  him  as  at  the  first  you  did :  yea,  had  he 
received  this  report  at  their  hands  only  that  are  enemies  to 
religion,  I  should  have  thought  it  had  been  a  slander:  (A  lot 
that  often  falls  from  bad  men's  mouths  upon  good  men's 
names  and  professions:)  But  all  these  things,  yea,  and  a 
great  many  more  as  bad,  of  my  own  knowledge  I  can  prove 
him  guilty  of.  Besides,  good  men  are  ashamed  of  him; 
they  can  neither  call  him  brother  nor  friend;  the  very  nam- 
ing of  him  among  them  makes  them  blush  if  they  know  him. 

FAITH.  Well,  I  see  that  saying  and  doing  are  two  things, 
and  hereafter  I  shall  better  observe  this  distinction. 

CHR.  They  are  two  things  indeed,  and  are  as  diverse  as 
are  the  soul  and  the  body;  for,  as  the  body  without  the  soul 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  81 

is  but  a  dead  carcass,  so  saying,  if  it  be  alone,  is  but  a  dead 
,       carcass  also.    The  soul  of  religion  is  the  practick 

Ine  carcass  oj  m  A 

religion.  part:  "Pure  religion  and  undefiled,  before  God 

James  i  27          an<i   the  Father,  is  this,  To  visit  the  father- 

see  ver.  zz— 2o. 

less  and  widows  in  their  affliction,  and  to 
keep  himself  unspotted  from  the  world."  This  Talkative  is 
not  aware  of;  he  thinks  that  hearing  and  saying  wrill  make  a 
good  Christian,  and  thus  he  deceiveth  his  own  soul.  Hear- 
ing is  but  as  the  sowing  of  the  seed;  talking  is  not  sufficient 
to  prove  that  fruit  is  indeed  in  the  heart  and  life;  and  let  us 
assure  ourselves,  that  at  the  day  of  doom,  men  shall  be 

judged  according  to  their  fruits.  It  will  not  be 
and%ap:Xxxi:  said  then,  Did  you  believe?  but,  Were  you 

doers,  or  talkers  only?  and  accordingly  shall 
they  be  judged.  The  end  of  the  world  is  compared  to  our 
harvest,  and  you  know  men  at  harvest  regard  nothing  but 
fruit.  Not  that  anything  can  be  accepted  that  is  not  of 
faith:  But  I  speak  this  to  show  you  how  insignificant  the 
profession  of  Talkative  will  be  at  that  day. 

FAITH.  This  brings  to  my  mind  that  of  Moses,  by  which 
he  describeth  the  beast  that  is  clean.  He  is  such  an  one  that 
Lev  xi  parteth  the  hoof,  and  cheweth  the  cud;  not 

Deut.  xiv.  that  parteth  the  hoof  only,  or  that  cheweth  the 

%S%£L  of  the     cud  only-     The  hare  cheweth  the  cud,  but  yet 
badness  of  js  unclean,  because  he  parteth  not  the  hoof. 

Talkative.  t  ^ 

And  this  truly  resembleth  Talkative:  he  chew- 
eth the  cud,  he  seeketh  knowledge,  he  cheweth  upon  the 
word;  but  he  divideth  not  the  hoof,  he  parteth  not  with  the 
way  of  sinners;  but,  as  the  hare,  he  retaineth  the  foot  of  a 
dog,  or  bear,  and  therefore  he  is  unclean. 

CHR.     You  have  spoken,  for  aught  I  know,  the  true  gospel 

sense  of  those  texts,  and  I  will  add  another 
CAap.'S"'?."3'  thing.  Paul  calleth  some  men,  yea  and  those 

great  talkers  too,  sounding  brass,  and  tinkling 
cymbals;  that  is,  as  he  expounds  them  in  another  place, 


82  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

"things  without  life,  giving  sound."  Things  without  life;  that 
Talkative  like  to  *s>  without tne  true  faith  and  grace  of  the  gos- 
things  that  sound  pel;  an(J  consequently,  things  that  shall  never 

without  life.  11-  i  •       j  £    i 

be  placed  in  the  kingdom  01  heaven  among 
those  that  are  the  children  of  life:  Though  their  sound,  by 
their  talk,  be  as  if  it  were  the  tongue  or  voice  of  an  angel. 

FAITH.  Well,  I  was  not  so  fond  of  his  company  at  first, 
but  I  am  sick  of  it  now.  What  shall  we  do  to  be  rid  of  him  ? 

CHR.  Take  my  advice,  and  do  as  I  bid  you,  and  you  shall 
find  that  he  will  soon  be  sick  of  your  company  too,  except 
God  shall  touch  his  heart  and  turn  it. 

FAITH.     What  would  you  have  me  to  do  ? 

CHR.  Why,  go  to  him,  and  enter  into  some  serious  dis- 
course about  the  power  of  religion.  And  ask  him  plainly 
(when  he  has  approved  of  it,  for  that  he  will),  whether  this 
thing  be  set  up  in  his  heart,  house,  or  conversation. 

FAITH.  Then  Faithful  stepped  forward  again,  and  said 
to  Talkative :  Come,  what  cheer  ?  how  is  it  now  ? 

TALK.  Thank  you,  well.  I  thought  we  should  have  had 
a  great  deal  of  talk  by  this  time. 

FAITH.  Well,  if  you  will,  we  will  fall  to  it  now;  and  since 
you  left  it  with  me  to  state  the  question,  let  it  be  this:  How 
doth  the  saving  grace  of  God  discover  itself,  when  it  is  in 
the  heart  of  man? 

TALK.     I  perceive  then  that  our  talk  must  be  about  the 

power  of  things;  Well,  'tis  a  very  good  question,  and  I  shall 

be  willing  to  answer  you.     And  take  my  answer 

Talkative' s  false       .      ,     .    „     ,  ~^.  ,  ".   -, 

discovery  of  a  m  brief  thus:  Jbirst,  where  the  grace  ol  God  is 
in  the  heart,  it  causeth  there  a  great  outcry 
against  sin.  Secondly — 

FAITH.  Nay  hold,  let  us  consider  of  one  at  once:  I  think 
you  should  rather  say,  It  shows  itself  by  inclining  the  soul  to 
abhor  its  sin. 

TALK.  Why,  what  difference  is  there  between  crying  out 
against  and  abhorring  of  sin  ? 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  83 

FAITH.     Oh !  a  great  deal;  a  man  may  cry  out  against  sin, 

of  policy;  but  he  cannot  abhor  it,  but  by  virtue  of  a  godly 

antipathy  against  it:  I  have  heard  many  cry 

lo  cry  out  .  .  . 

against  sin,  no  out  against  sin  in  the  pulpit,  who  yet  can 
abide  it  well  enough  in  the  heart,  and  house, 
and  conversation.  Joseph's  mistress  cried  out  with  a  loud 
voice,  as  if  she  had  been  very  holy;  but  she  would  willingly, 
notwithstanding  that,  have  committed  uncleanness  with  him. 
Some  cry  out  against  sin,  even  as  the  mother  cries  out  against 
her  child  in  her  lap,  when  she  calleth  it  slut  and  naughty  girl, 
and  then  falls  to  hugging  and  kissing  it. 

TALK.     You  lie  at  the  catch,  I  perceive. 

FAITH.  No,  not  I;  I  am  only  for  setting  things  right. 
But  what  is  the  second  thing  whereby  you  would  prove  a 
discovery  of  a  work  of  grace  in  the  heart? 

TALK.     Great  knowledge  of  gospel  mysteries. 

FAITH.  This  sign  should  have  been  first;  but,  first  or  last, 
it  is  also  false;  for  knowledge,  great  knowledge,  may  be  ob- 
tained in  the  mysteries  of  the  gospel,  and  yet 

Great  knowledge  J  to  . 

no  sign  of  grace,  no  work  of  grace  m  the  soul.  Yea,  if  a  man 
have  all  knowledge,  he  may  yet  be  nothing, 
and  so  consequently  be  no  child  of  God.  When  Christ  said, 
Do  you  know  all  these  things?  and  the  disciples  had  an- 
swered, Yes;  he  addeth,  Blessed  are  ye  if  ye  do  them.  He 
doth  not  lay  the  blessing  in  the  knowing  of  them,  but  in  the 
doing  of  them.  For  there  is  a  knowledge  that  is  riot  attended 
with  doing:  He  that  knoweth  his  Master's  will,  and  doth  it 
not.  A  man  may  know  like  an  angel,  and  yet  be  no  Christian; 
therefore  your  sign  of  it  is  not  true.  Indeed  to  know,  is  a 
thing  that  pleaseth  talkers  and  boasters;  but  to  do,  is  that 
which  pleaseth  God.  Not  that  the  heart  can  be  good  with- 
out knowledge;  'for  without  that  the  heart  is 
naught.  There  is  therefore  knowledge,  and 
knowledge.  Knowledge  that  resteth  in  the 
speculation  of  things,  and  knowledge  that  is  accompanied 


- 


84  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

with  the  grace  of  faith  and  love,  which  puts  a  man  upon  doing 
even  the  will  of  God  from  the  heart:  the  first 
of  these  will  serve  the  talker;  but  without  the 
.         otner  tne  true  Christian  is  not  content.     "  Give 
me  understanding,  and  I  shall  keep  thy  law; 
yea,  I  shall  observe  it  with  my  whole  heart." 

TALK.     You  lie  at  the  catch  again;  this  is  not  for  edifica- 
tion. 

FAITH.     Well,  if  you  please  propound  another  sign  how 
this  work  of  grace  disco vereth  itself  where  it  is. 
TALK.     Not  I;  for  I  see  we  shall  not  agree. 
FAITH.     Well,  if  you  will  not,  will  you  give  me  leave  to 
do  it  ? 

TALK.     You  may  use  your  liberty. 

FAITH.  A  work  of  grace  in  the  soul  discov- 
eretn  itself'  either  to  him  that  hath  it,  or  to 
standers-by. 

To  him  that  hath  it,  thus:  It  gives  him  conviction  of  sin, 
especially  of  the  defilement  of  his  nature,  and  the  sin  of  un- 
belief (for  the  sake  of  which  he  is  sure  to  be 
Rom.  viL  24.  damned,  if  he  findeth  not  mercy  at  God's  hand 
Mark*xvi*is.  by  faith  in  Jesus  Christ).  This  sight  and  sense 
Jer Xxxxi\™  °f  things  worketh  in  him  sorrow  and  shame  for 
Gal.  ii.  16.  sm;  ne  findeth  moreover  revealed  in  him  the 

Acts  iv.  12. 

Matt.  v.  6.  Saviour  of  the  world,  and  the  absolute  neces- 

Rev,  xxi.  6. 

sity  of  closing  with  him  for  life,  at  the  which 
he  findeth  hunger  ings  and  thirs  tings  after  him,  to  which 
hungerings,  etc.,  the  promise  is  made.  Now  according  to 
the  strength  or  weakness  of  his  faith  in  his  Saviour,  so  is  his 
joy  and  peace,  so  is  his  love  to  holiness,  so  are  his  desires  to 
know  him  more,  and  also  to  serve  him  in  this  world.  But 
though  I  say  it  discovereth  itself  thus  unto  him,  yet  it  is  but 
seldom  that  he  is  able  to  conclude  that  this  is  a  work  of 
grace,  because  his  corruptions  now,  and  his  abused  reason, 
make  his  mind  to  misjudge  in  this  matter;  therefore  in  him 
that  hath  this  work,  there  is  required  a  very  sound  judgment, 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  85 

before  he  can  with  steadiness  conclude  that  this  is  a  work  of 
grace. 

To  others  it  is  thus  discovered: 

1.  By  an  experimental  confession  of  his  faith  in  Christ. 

2.  By  a  life  answerable  to  that  confession;  to  wit,  a  life  of 

holiness;  heart-holiness,  family-holiness   (if  he 

HOW..  X-   10. 

Phil.  i.  27.  hath  a  family),  and  by  conversation-holiness  in 

John  xiv.  is.  the  world;  which  in  the  general  teacheth  him, 
Job.  xlii.  5,  6.  inwardly  to  abhor  his  sin,  and  himself  for  that 

Ezek.  xxix.  43.         •  • ,     •       r  •      g        •!  j    , 

in  secret,  to  suppress  it  in  his  family,  and  to 
promote  holiness  in  the  world;  not  by  talk  only,  as  an  hypo- 
crite or  talkative  person  may  do:  but  by  a  practical  subjec- 
tion in  faith  and  love  to  the  power  of  the  word:  And  now  Sir, 
as  to  this  brief  description  of  the  work  of  grace,  and  also  the 
discovery  of  it,  if  you  have  aught  to  object,  object;  if  not, 
then  give  me  leave  to  propound  to  you  a  second  question. 

TALK.     Nay,  my  part  is  not  now  to  object,  but  to  hear: 
let  me  therefore  have  your  second  question. 

FAITH.  It  is  this:  Do  you  experience  the  first  part  of  this 
description  of  it  ?  and  doth  your  life  and  conversation  testify 
the  same  ?  or  standeth  your  religion  in  word  or 
in  tongue,  and  not  in  deed  and  truth?  Pray, 
if  you  incline  to  answer  me  in  this,  say  no  more 
than  you  know  the  God  above  will  say  Amen  to;  and  also, 
nothing  but  what  your  conscience  can  justify  you  in:  For, 
"not  he  that  commendeth  himself  is  approved,  but  whom 
the  Lord  commendeth."  Besides,  to  say  I  am  thus,  and 
thus,  when  my  conversation,  and  all  my  neighbors  tell  me 
I  lie,  is  great  wickedness. 

TALK.  Then  Talkative  at  first  began  to  blush,  but  recov- 
ering himself,  thus  he  replied:  You  come  now  to  experience, 
to  conscience,  and  God:  and  to  appeal  to  him 
for  justification  of  what  is  spoken :  This  kind  of 
question  *  discourse  I  did  not  expect,  nor  am  I  disposed  to 

give  an  answer  to  such  questions,  because  I 
count  not  myself  bound  thereto,  unless  you  take  upon  you 


86  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

to  be  a  catechiser;  and,  though  you  should  so  do,  yet  I  may 
refuse  to  make  you  my  judge:  But  I  pray  will  you  tell  me, 
why  you  ask  me  such  questions? 

FAITH.     Because  I  saw  you  forward  to  talk,  and  because 

I  knew  not  that  you  had  aught  else  but  notion.     Besides,  to 

tell  you  all  the  truth,  I  have  heard  of  you,  that 

The  reasons  why  .  " 

Faithful  put  to      you  are  a  man  whose  religion  lies  in  talk,  and 

him  that  question.       ,  .  ,  . 

that  your  conversation  gives  this  your  mouth- 
profession  the  lie.  They  say  You  are  a  spot  among  Chris- 
tians, and  that  religion  fareth  the  worse  for  your  ungodly 

conversation,  that  some  alreadv  have  stumbled 

Faithful  s  plain  ,  . 

dealing  with  at  your  wicked  ways,  and  that  more  are  in  dan- 
ger of  being  destroyed  thereby;  your  religion, 
and  an  ale-house,  and  covetousness,  and  uncleanness,  and 
swearing,  and  lying,  and  vain  company-keeping,  etc.,  will 
stand  together.  The  proverb  is  true  of  you  which  is  said  of 
a  whore,  to  wit,  That  she  is  a  shame  to  all  women;  so  you  are 
a  shame  to  all  professors. 

TALK.     Since  vou  are  readv  to  take  up  re- 

Talkahve  flings  .      * 

away  from  ports,  and  to  judge  so  rashly  as  you  do;  I  can- 

not but  conclude  you  are  some  peevish  or  mel- 
ancholy man,  not  fit  to  be  discoursed  with;  and  so  adieu. 

CHR.     Then  came  up  Christian,  and  said  to  his  brother, 

I  told  you  how  it  would  happen,  your  words  and  his  lusts 

could  not  agree;  he  had  rather  leave  your  com- 

riddance  Panv  than  reform  his  life:  but  he  is  gone  as  I 

said,  let  him  go;  the  loss  is  no  man's  but  his 

own,  he  has  saved  us  the  trouble  of  going  from  him;  for  he 

continuing  (as  I  suppose  he  will  do)  as  he  is,  he  would  have 

been  but  a  blot  in  our  company:  besides,  the  apostle  says, 

"From  such  withdraw  thyself." 

FAITH.  But  I  am  glad  we  had  this  little  discourse  with 
him,  it  may  happen  that  he  will  think  of  it  again;  however, 
I  have  dealt  plainly  with  him,  and  so  am  clear  of  his  blood, 
if  he  perisheth. 


THE  PILGRIM'S   PROGRESS  87 

CHR.  You  did  well  to  talk  so  plainly  to  him  as  you  did, 
there  is  but  little  of  this  faithful  dealing  with  men  nowa- 
days, and  that  makes  religion  to  stink  so  in  the  nostrils  of 
many  as  it  doth;  for  they  are  these  talkative  fools  whose 
religion  is  only  in  word,  and  are  debauched  and  vain  in  their 
conversation,  that  (being  so  much  admitted  into  the  fellow- 
ship of  the  godly)  do  puzzle  the  world,  blemish  Christianity, 
and  grieve  the  sincere.  I  wish  that  all  men  would  deal  with 
such  as  you  have  done,  then  should  they  either  be  made  more 
conformable  to  religion,  or  the  company  of  saints  would  be 
too  hot  for  them.  Then  did  Faithful  say: 

How  Talkative  at  first  lifts  up  his  plumes ! 
How  bravely  doth  he  speak !  how  he  presumes 
To  drive  down  all  before  him !  but  so  soon 
As  Faithful  talks  of  heart-work,  like  the  moon 
That's  past  the  full,  into  the  wane  he  goes; 
And  so  will  all,  but  he  that  Heart-work  knows. 

Thus  they  went  on  talking  of  what  they  had  seen  by  the 
way,  and  so  made  that  way  easy,  which  would  otherwise, 
no  doubt,  have  been  tedious  to  them;  for  now  they  went 
through  a  wilderness. 

Now  when  they  were  got  almost  quite  out  of  this  wilder- 
ness, Faithful  chanced  to  cast  his  eye  back,  and  espied  one 
Evan  elist  come  after  them,  and  he  knew  him.  Oh !  said 

Faithful   to   his  brother,  who  comes  yonder? 
Then  Christian  looked,  and  said,  It  is  my  good 
friend  Evangelist.     Ay,  and  my  good  friend  too,  said  Faith- 
ful: for  'twas  he  that  set  me  the  way  to  the  gate.     Now  was 
Evangelist  come  up  unto  them,  and  thus  saluted  them: 

EVAN.  Peace  be  with  you,  dearly  beloved,  and  peace  be 
to  your  helpers. 

CHR.     Welcome,  welcome,   my  good  Evan- 
Ihe'light  of^im.     gelist,  the  sight  of  thy  countenance  brings  to 
my   remembrance   thy   ancient   kindness,   and 
unwearied  laboring  for  my  eternal  good. 


88  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

FAITH.  And  a  thousand  times  welcome,  said  good  Faith- 
ful; Thy  company,  O  sweet  Evangelist,  how  desirable  is  it  to 
us,  poor  pilgrims ! 

EVAN.  Then  said  Evangelist,  How  hath  it  fared  with  you, 
my  friends,  since  the  time  of  our  last  parting  ?  what  have  you 
met  with,  and  how  have  you  behaved  yourselves  ? 

Then  Christian  and  Faithful  told  him  of  all  things  that  had 
happened  to  them  in  the  way;  and  how,  and  with  what  diffi- 
culty they  had  arrived  to  that  place. 

EVAN.     Right  glad  am  I,   said  Evangelist; 

tfo'them.ortation    not  tnat  y°u  have  met  with  trials' but  that  y°u 

have  been  victors;  and  for  that  you  have  (not- 
withstanding many  weaknesses)  continued  in  the  way  to  this 
very  day. 

I  say,  right  glad  am  I  of  this  thing,  and  that  for  mine  own 
sake  and  yours;  I  have  sowed,  and  you  have  reaped;  and  the 

day  is  coming, .  when  both  he  that  sowed  and 

John  iv.  36.  .    .  . 

they  that  reaped  shall  rejoice  together;  that  is, 

Gal.  vi.  9.  •<>     '        i     i  i  p        •       i  i     11 

if  you  hold  out:  for  in  due  season  ye  shall  reap 
if  you  faint  not.     The  crown  is  before  you,  and  it  is  an  in- 
corruptible one;  so  run,  that  you  may  obtain  it.     Some  there 
.       _       be  that  set  out  for  this  crown,  and  after  they 
have  gone  far  for  it,  another  comes  in,  and 
takes  it  from  them;  "hold  fast  therefore  that 
you  have,  let  no  man  take  your  crown."     You  are  not  yet 
out  of  the  gunshot  of  the  devil;  you  have  not  resisted  unto 
blood,  striving  against  sin;  let  the  kingdom  be  always  before 
you,  and  believe  steadfastly  concerning  things  that  are  in- 
visible.    Let  nothing  that  is  on  this  side  the  other  world  get 
within  you;  and  above  all,  look  well  to  your  own  hearts,  and 
to  the  lusts  thereof,  for  they  are  deceitful  above  all  things, 
and  desperately  wicked;  set  your  faces  like  a  flint;  you  have 
all  power  in  heaven  and  earth  on  your  side. 

CHR.  Then  Christian  thanked  him  for  his  exhortation, 
but  told  him  withal,  that  they  would  have  him  speak  further 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  89 

to  them  for  their  help,  the  rest  of  the  way;  and  the  rather, 
for  that  they  well  knew  that  he  was  a  prophet, 
him  for  his  and  could  tell  them  of  things  that  might  hap- 

pen unto  them;  and  also  how  they  might  re- 
sist and  overcome  them.  To  which  request  Faithful  also 
consented.  So  Evangelist  began  as  followeth: 

EVAN.     My  sons  you  have  heard  in  the  words  of  the  truth 

oi  the  gospel,  that  you  must  through  many  tribulations  enter 

into  the  kingdom  of  heaven.     And  again,  that 

tie  preaictetn  °  t  .    •    . 

what  troubles         'm  every  city  bonds  and  afflictions  abide  in  you; 

they  shall  meet  • 

with  in  Vanity      and    therefore    you    cannot    expect    that    you 

Fair,  and  ,        ,  ,  ,  -i      •  '^i 

encouragetk  them  should  go  long  on  your  pilgrimage  without 
ttness-  them,  in  some  sort  or  other.  You  have  found 
something  of  the  truth  of  these  testimonies  upon  you  already, 
and  more  will  immediately  follow:  for  now,  as  you  see,  you 
are  almost  out  of  this  wilderness,  and  therefore  you  will  soon 
come  into  a  town  that  you  will  by  and  by  see  before  you: 
and  in  that  town  you  will  be  hardly  beset  with  enemies,  who 
will  strain  hard  but  they  will  kill  you:  and  be  you  sure  that 
one  or  both  of  you  must  seal  the  testimony  which  you  hold, 
with  blood;  but  be  you  faithful  unto  death,  and  the  King  will 

He  whose  lot  it      &*ve  ^ou  a  crown  °^  ^e-     -^e  that  shall  die 
will  be  there  to       there,  although  his  death  will  be  unnatural,  and 

suffer,  will  have 

the  better  of  his  his  pains  perhaps  great,  he  will  yet  have  the 
better  of  his  fellow;  not  only  because  he  will  be 
arrived  at  the  Celestial  City  soonest,  but  because  he  will 
escape  many  miseries  that  the  other  will  meet  with  in  the 
rest  of  his  journey.  But  when  you  are  come  to  the  town,  and 
shall  find  fulfilled  what  I  have  here  related,  then  remember 
your  friend,  and  quit  yourselves  like  men;  and  commit  the 
keeping  of  your  souls  to  God  in  well-doing,  as  unto  a  faithful 
Creator. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  when  they  were  got  out  of 
the  wilderness,  they  presently  saw  a  town  before  them,  and 
the  name  of  that  town  is  Vanity;  and  at  the  town  there  is 


90  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

a  fair  kept,  called  Vanity  Fair.    It  is  kept  all  the  year  long, 
isa  xl  17  ^  beareth  the  name  of  Vanity  Fair  because  the 

Ecd.  i.  a.  14.       town  where  'tis  kept  is  lighter  than  vanity;  and 

Chap.  ii.  11,  17.  ii     i         .       i 

also  because  all  that  is  there  sold,  or  that  com- 
eth  thither,  is  vanity.  As  is  the  saying  of  the  wise,  All 
that  cometh  is  vanity. 

This  fair  is  no  new-erected  business,  but  a  thing  of  ancient 
standing;  I  will  show  you  the  original  of  it. 

Almost  five  thousand  years  agone,  there  were  pilgrims 
walking  to  the  Celestial  City,  as  these  two  honest  persons  are; 
and  Beelzebub,  Apollyon,  and  Legion,  with 
V  °f  tlieir  companions,  perceiving  by  the  path  that 
the  pilgrims  made,  that  their  way  to  the  city 
lay  through  this  town  of  Vanity,  they  contrived  here  to  set 
up  a  fair,  a  fair  wherein  should  be  sold  of  all  sorts  of  vanity, 
and  that  it  should  last  all  the  year  long.  Therefore  at  this 
fair  are  all  such  merchandise  sold,  as  houses, 
l^thTsef^rndiSe  lands,  trades,  places,  honors,  preferments, 
titles,  countries,  kingdoms,  lusts,  pleasures 
and  delights  of  all  sorts,  as  whores,  bawds,  wives,  husbands, 
children,  masters,  servants,  lives,  blood,  bodies,  souls,  silver, 
gold,  pearls,  precious  stones,  and  what  not. 

And  moreover,  at  this  fair  there  is  at  all  times  to  be  seen 
jugglings,  cheats,  games,  plays,  fools,  apes,  knaves,  and 
rogues,  and  that  of  every  kind. 

Here  are  to  be  seen  too,  and  that  for  nothing,  thefts,  mur- 
ders, adulteries,  false-swearers,  and  that  of  a  blood-red  color. 
And  as  in  other  fairs  of  less  moment,  tnere  are  the  several 
rows  and  streets,  under  their  proper  names,  where  such  and 
such  wares  are  vended;    so  here  likewise,  you 
haye   t^ie   Pr°Per    places,    rows,    streets    (viz., 
countries  and  kingdoms),  where  the  wares  of 
this  fair  are  soonest  to  be  found:  Here  is  the  British  Row, 
the  French  Row,  the  Italian  Row,  the  Spanish  Row,  the  Ger- 
man Row,  where  several   sorts  of  vanities  are  to  be  sold. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  91 

But  as  in  other  fairs,  some  one  commodity  is  as  the  chief 
of  all  the  fair,  so  the  ware  of  Rome  and  her  merchandise  is 
greatly  promoted  in  this  fair;  only  our  English  nation,  with 
some  others,  have  taken  a  dislike  thereat. 

Now,  as  I  said,  the  way  to  the  Celestial  City  lies  just 

through  this  town,  where  this  lusty  fair  is  kept;  and  he  that 

will  go  to  the  city,  and  yet  not  go  through  this  town,  must 

needs  "go  out  of  the  world."     The  Prince  of 

1    L/OT.  V.    l\J. 

Christ  went  princes  himself,  when  here,  went  through  this 

through  this  fair. 

Matt.  i».  8.  "         town  to  his  own  country,  and  that  upon  a  fair- 

Lukeiv.5,7.  ,  ^,  ,  T     .  .    ,  . 

day  too:  Yea,  and  as  I  think,  it  was  Beelze- 
bub, the  chief  Lord  of  this  fair,  that  invited  him  to  buy 
of  his  vanities;  yea,  would  have  made  him  lord  of  the  fair, 
would  he  but  have  done  him  reverence  as  he  went  through 
the  town.  Yea,  because  he  was  such  a  person  of  honor, 
Beelzebub  had  him  from  street  to  street,  and  showed  him 
all  the  kingdoms  of  the  world  in  a  little  time,  that  he 

might  (if  possible)  allure  that  Blessed  One,  to 

Cknst  bought 

nothing  in  this  cheapen  and  buy  some  of  his  vanities.  But  he 
had  no  mind  to  the  merchandise,  and  therefore 
left  the  town,  without  laying  out  so  much  as  one  farthing 
upon  these  vanities.  This  fair  therefore  is  an  ancient  thing, 
of  long  standing,  and  a  very  great  fair. 

Now  these  Pilgrims,  as  I  said,  must  needs  go 

The  pilgrims 

enter  the  fair.  through  this  fair.  Well,  so  they  did;  but  be- 
Thefairin  a  hold,  even  as  they  entered  into  the  fair,  all  the 
hubbub  about  people  in  the  fair  were  moved,  and  the  town 

them. 

itself  as  it  were  in  a  hubbub  about  them;  and 

that  for  several  reasons:  for — 

First,  The  pilgrims  were  clothed  with  such  kind  of  raiment 

The  first  cause  as  was  diverse  from  the  raiment  of  any  that 
traded  in  that  fair.  The  people  therefore  of 
the  fair  made  a  great  gazing  upon  them:  Some 
said  they  were  fools,  some  they  were  bedlams, 

and  some  they  are  outlandish  men. 


92  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

Secondly,  And  as  they  wondered  at  their  apparel,  so  they 
did  likewise  at  their  speech,  for  few  could  understand  what 
they  said;  they  naturally  spoke  the  language  of 
fhee°hubbub'e  0/     Canaan,  but  they  that  kept  the  fair  were  the 
men  of  this  world;  so  that,  from  one  end  of  the 
fair  to  the  other,  they  seemed  barbarians  each  to  the  other. 
Thirdly,  But  that  which  did  not  a  little  amuse  the  mer- 
chandisers, was,  that  these  pilgrims  set  very  light  by  all  their 
wares,  they  cared  not  so  much  as  to  look  upon 

Third  cause  of         ,  -,  i    .»    .  i  111  ,  i  i 

the  hubbub.  them;  and  if  they  called  upon  them  to  buy, 

Ps.  cxix.  37.         thev  would  put  their  fingers  in  their  ears,  and 
Phil  Hi  19  20     cry>   "Turn  away  mine  eyes  from  beholding 
vanity,"    and    look    upwards,    signifying    that 
their  trade  and  traffic  was  in  heaven. 

One  chanced  mockingly,  beholding  the  carriages  of  the 
men,  to  say  unto  them,  What  will  ye  buy  ?  But  they,  look- 
Fourth  cause  of  ing  gravely  upon  him,  said,  "We  buy  the  truth." 
the  hubbub.  At  that,  there  was  an  occasion  taken  to  despise 

Prop.  xxm.  23.      j.ne  men  j_ne  more.  some  mocking,  some  taunt- 

They  are  mocked.     •  *  •  i_*  11  j  11 

mg,  some  speaking  reproachfully,  and  some  call- 
ing upon  others  to  smite  them.  At  last  things  came  to  a 
hubbub  and  great  stir  in  the  fair,  insomuch  that  all  order 

was  confounded.  Now  was  word  presently 
hubbub* in  a  brought  to  the  great  one  of  the  fair,  who  quickly 

came  down,  and  deputed  some  of  his  most 
trusty  friends  to  take  these  men  into  examination,  about 
whom  the  fair  was  almost  overturned.  So  the  men  were 

brought  to  examination;  and  they  that  sat  upon 
examined.  them,  asked  them  whence  they  came,  whither 

They  tell  who  they  went,  and  what  they  did  there  in  such  an 
whyemreetheyd  unusual  garb.  The  men  told  them  that  they 
cuT'  •  it  were  pilgrims  and  strangers  in  the  world,  and 

neo.  xi.  In— lo.  A     *- 

that  they  were  going  to  their  own  country, 
which  was  the  heavenly  Jerusalem;  and  that  they  had  given 
no  occasion  to  the  men  of  the  town,  nor  yet  to  the  merchan- 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  93 

disers,  thus  to  abuse  them,  and  to  let  them  in  their  journey. 
Except  it  was,  for  that,  when  one  asked  them  what  they 
would  buy,  they  said  they  would  "buy  the  truth."  But 

they  that  were  appointed  to  examine  them  did 
MieveT  H0t  not  believe  them  to  be  any  other  than  Bedlams 

and  mad,  or  else  such  as  came  to  put  all  things 
into  a  confusion  in  the  fair.  Therefore  they  took  them  and 

beat  them,  and  besmeared  them  with  dirt,  and 

Pelage6  *"*  '*       then  Pllt  them   int°  the  Ca§e»   that   they  might 

be  made  a  spectacle  to  all  the  men  of  the  fair. 
There  therefore  they  lay  for  some  time,  and  were  made  the 
objects  of  any  man's  sport,  or  malice,  or  revenge,  the  great 

one  of  the  fair  laughing  still  at  all  that  befell 

theec^ehaTiorin  them-  But  the  men  beinS  Patient,  and  not 
rendering  railing  for  railing,  but  contrariwise 
blessing,  and  giving  good  words  for  bad,  and  kindness  for  in- 
juries done:  Some  men  in  the  fair  that  were  more  observing, 
and  less  prejudiced  than  the  rest,  began  to  check  and  blame 
m,  /..,  the  baser  sort  for  their  continual  abuses  done 

I  tie  men  oj  the 

fair  do  fall  out       DV  them  to  the  men :  They  therefore  in  angry 

among  themselves  ,  .  . 

about  these  two  manner  let  fly  at  them  again,  counting  them  as 
bad  as  the  men  in  the  cage,  and  telling  them 
that  they  seemed  confederates,  and  should  be  made  partakers 
of  their  misfortunes.  The  other  replied,  That  for  aught  they 
could  see,  the  men  were  quiet,  and  sober,  and  intended  no- 
body any  harm;  and  that  there  were  many  that  traded  in 
their  fair  that  were  more  worthy  to  be  put  into  the  cage,  yea, 
and  pillory  too,  than  were  the  men  that  they  had  abused. 
Thus,  after  divers  words  had  passed  on  both  sides  (the  men 
behaving  themselves  all  the  while  very  wisely  and  soberly 
before  them),  they  fell  to  some  blows  among  themselves,  and 
did  harm  one  to  another.  Then  were  these 

They  are  made 

the  authors  of        two  poor  men  brought  before  their  examiners 

this  disturbance.  .  ,          , 

again,  and  there  charged  as  being  guilty  of  the 
late  hubbub  that  had  been  in  the  fair.  So  they  beat  them 


94  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

pitifully,  and  hanged  irons  upon  them,  and  led  them  in  chains 
They  are  led  up  UP  anc*  down  tne  fau*»  ^or  an  example  and  a 
and  down  the  terror  to  others,  lest  any  should  speak  in  their 

fair  in  chains,  .    . 

for  a  terror  to        behalf,   or    join    themselves   unto   them.     But 

Christian  and  Faithful  behaved  themselves  yet 
more  wisely,  and  received  the  ignominy  and  shame  that  was 
cast  upon  them,  with  so  much  meekness  and  patience,  that 
Some  of  the  men  ^  won  to  their  side  (though  but  few  in  compari- 
totkm*0*  son  °^  tne  rest)  several  °f  the  men  in  the  fair. 

This  put  the  other  party  yet  into  a  greater  rage, 
resolve  to  kill  insomuch  that  they  concluded  the  death  of  these 

two  men.1  Wherefore  they  threatened  that  the 
cage  nor  irons  should  serve  their  turn,  but  that  they  should 
die,  for  the  abuse  they  had  done,  and  for  deluding  the  men 
of  the  fair. 

Then     were    they    remanded    to    the     cage 
putliTo'the^c,    again»   until    further    order    should    be    taken 

with  them.  So  they  put  them  in,  and  made 
their  feet  fast  in  the  stocks. 

Here  therefore  they  called  again  to  mind  what  they  had 
heard  from  their  faithful  friend  Evangelist,  and  were  the 
more  confirmed  in  their  way  and  sufferings,  by  what  he  told 
them  would  happen  to  them.  They  also  now  comforted  each 
other,  that  whose  lot  it  was  to  suffer,  even  he  should  have  the 
best  on't;  therefore  each  man  secretly  wished  that  he  might 
have  that  preferment:  but  committing  themselves  to  the  All- 
wise  disposal  of  him  that  ruleth  all  things,  with  much  content 
they  abode  in  the  condition  in  which  they  were,  until  they 
should  be  otherwise  disposed  of. 

Then  a  convenient  time  being  appointed,  they  brought 
them  forth  to  their  trial  in  order  to  their  condemnation. 
When  the  time  was  come,  they  were  brought  before  their 

1  Behold  Vanity  Fair !  the  Pilgrims  there 
Are  chain'd,  and  ston'd  beside; 
Even  so  it  was,  our  Lord  pass'd  here, 
And  on  Mount  Calvary  died. 


THE  PILGRIM'S   PROGRESS  95 

enemies  and  arraigned.     The  judge's  name  was  Lord  Hate- 
good.     Their  indictment  was  one  and  the  same 

lodtrilir  brOUffht    in  substance,  though  somewhat  varying  in  form; 

the  contents  whereof  was  this: 

"That  they  were  enemies  to,  and  disturbers  of  their  trade: 
that  they  had  made  commotions  and  divisions 

Their  indictment. 

in  the  town,  and  had  won  a  party  to  their  own 
most  dangerous  opinions,  in  contempt  of  the  law  of  their 
prince." 

Then  Faithful  began  to  answer,  That  he  had  only  set  him- 
self against  that  which  had  set  itself  against  him  that  is 
Fatth fid's  higher  than  the  highest.  And  said  he,  As  for 

answer  for  disturbance,  I  make  none,  being  myself  a  man 

of  peace;  the  parties  that  were  won  to  us  were 
won  by  beholding  our  truth  and  innocence,  and  they  are  only 
turned  from  the  worse  to  the  better.  And  as  to  the  king  you 
talk  of,  since  he  is  Beelzebub,  the  enemy  of  our  Lord,  I  defy 
him  and  all  his  angels.1 

Then  proclamation  was  made,  that  they  that  had  aught 
to  say  for  their  lord  the  king  against  the  prisoner  at  the  bar, 
should  forthwith  appear  and  give  in  their  evidence.  So  there 
came  in  three  witnesses,  to  wit,  Envy,  Superstition,  and 
Pickthank.  They  were  then  asked,  If  they  knew  the  pris- 
oner at  the  bar  ?•  and  what  they  had  to  say  for  their  lord  the 
king  against  him. 

.                 Then   stood   forth  Envy,   and   said   to   this 
effect:  My  lord,  I  have  known  this  man  a  long 
time,  and  will  attest   upon   my  oath  before  this  honorable 
bench,  That  he  is 

JUDGE.  Hold !  Give  him  his  oath.  So  they  sware  him. 
Then  he  said :  My  lord,  this  man,  notwithstanding  his  plausi- 
ble name,  is  one  of  the  vilest  men  in  our  country;  he  neither 

1  Now  Faithful,  play  the  man,  speak  for  thy  God: 
Fear  not  the  wicked's  malice,  nor  their  rod: 
Speak  boldly,  man,  the  truth  is  on  thy  side; 
Die  for  it,  and  to  life  in  triumph  ride. 


96  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

regardeth  prince  nor  people,  law  nor  custom:  but  doth  all  that 
he  can  to  possess  all  men  with  certain  of  his  disloyal  notions, 
which  he  in  the  general  calls  principles  of  faith  and  holiness. 
And  in  particular,  I  heard  him  once  myself  affirm,  That 
Christianity  and  the  customs  of  our  town  of  Vanity  were 
diametrically  opposite,  and  could  not  be  reconciled.  By 
which  saying,  my  lord,  he  doth  at  once  not  only  condemn 
all  our  laudable  doings,  but  us  in  the  doing  of  them. 

JUDGE.  Then  did  the  judge  say  to  him,  Hast  thou  any 
more  to  say? 

ENVY.  My  lord,  I  could  say  much  more,  only  I  would 
not  be  tedious  to  the  court.  Yet  if  need  be,  when  the  other 
gentlemen  have  given  in  their  evidence,  rather  than  anything 
shall  be  wanting  that  will  despatch  him,  I  will  enlarge  my 
testimony  against  him.  So  he  was  bid  stand  by.  Then  they 
called  Superstition,  and  bid  him  look  upon  the  prisoner;  they 
also  asked,  What  he  could  say  for  their  lord  the  king  against 
him?  Then  they  sware  him;  so  he  began: 

SUPER.  My  lord,  I  have  no  great  acquaintance  with  this 
man,  nor  do  I  desire  to  have  further  knowledge  of  him; 
However  this  I  know,  that  he  is  a  very  pestilent 
follows^™  fellow,  from  some  discourse  that  the  other  day 
I  had  with  him  in  this  town;  for  then  talking 
with  him,  I  heard  him  say,  That  our  religion  was  naught, 
and  such  by  which  a  man  could  by  no  means  please  God: 
which  sayings  of  his,  my  lord,  your  lordship  very  well  knows, 
what  necessarily  thence  will  follow,  to  wit,  That  we  still  do 
worship  in  vain,  are  yet  in  our  sins,  and  finally  shall  be 
damned;  and  this  is  that  which  I  have  to  say. 

Then  was  Pickthank  sworn,  and  bid  say  what  he  knew,  in 
behalf  of  their  lord  the  king  against  the  prisoner  at  the  bar. 
PICK.  My  lord,  and  you  gentlemen  all,  This 
fellow  I  have  known  of  a  long  time,  and  have 
heard  him  speak  things  that  ought  not  to  be 
spoke.  For  he  hath  railed  on  our  noble  prince  Beelzebub, 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  97 

and  hath  spoken  contemptibly  of  his  honorable  friends,  whose 
names  are  the  Lord  Oldman,  the  Lord  Carnal  Delight,  the 
Lord  Luxurious,  the  Lord  Desire-of- Vain-Glory,  my  old 
Lord  Lechery,  Sir  Having  Greedy,  with  all  the 
rest  of  our  nobility;  and  he  hath  said  moreover, 
that  if  all  men  were  of  his  mind,  if  possible, 
there  is  not  one  of  these  noble  men  should  have  any  longer 
a  being  in  this  town.  Besides,  he  hath  not  been  afraid  to 
rail  on  you,  my  lord,  who  are  now  appointed  to  be  his  judge, 
calling  you  an  ungodly  villain,  with  many  other  such  like 
vilifying  terms,  with  which  he  hath  bespattered  most  of  the 
gentry  of  our  town. 

When  this  Pickthank  had  told  his  tale,  the  judge  directed 
his  speech  to  the  prisoner  at  the  bar,  saying:  Thou  runagate, 
heretic,  and  traitor,  hast  thou  heard  what  these  honest  gen- 
tlemen have  witnessed  against  thee  ? 

FAITH.     May  I  speak  a  few  words  in  my  own  defense  ? 

JUDGE.  Sirrah,  Sirrah,  thou  deservest  to  live  no  longer, 
but  to  be  slain  immediately  upon  the  place;  yet  that  all  men 
may  see  our  gentleness  towards  thee,  let  us  hear  what  thou, 
vile  runagate,  hast  to  say. 

FAITH.     1.  I  say  then,  in  answer  to  what  Mr.  Envy  hath 

spoken,  I  never  said  aught  but  this,  That  what  rule,  or  laws, 

or   custom,   or  people,   were   flat   against   the 

r  dlthjUl  S 

defense  of  Word   of   God,   are   diametrically   opposite   to 

Christianity.  If  I  have  said  amiss  in  this,  con- 
vince me  of  my  error,  and  I  am  ready  here  before  you  to 
make  my  recantation. 

2.  As  to  the  second,  to  wit,  Mr.  Superstition,  and  his  charge 
against  me,  I  said  only  this,  That  in  the  worship  of  God  there 
is  required  a  divine  faith;  but  there  can  be  no  divine  faith 
without  a  divine  revelation  of  the  will  of  God :  therefore  what- 
ever is  thrust  into  the  worship  of  God,  that  is  not  agreeable 
to  divine  revelation,  cannot  be  done  but  by  a  human  faith; 
which  faith  will  not  be  profitable  to  eternal  life. 


98  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

3.  As  to  what  Mr.  Pickthank  hath  said,  I  say  (Avoiding 
terms,  as  that  I  am  said  to  rail,  and  the  like)  That  the  prince 
of  this  town,  with  all  the  rabblement  his  attendants,  by  this 
gentleman  named,  are  more  fit  for  a  being  in  hell  than  in. 
this  town  and  country:  and  so  the  Lord  have  mercy  upon 
me. 

Then  the  judge  called  to  the  jury  (who  all  this  while  stood 

by,  to  hear  and  observe) :  Gentlemen  of  the  Jury,  you  see  this 

man  about  whom  so  great  an  uproar  hath  been 

The  judge; 

his  speech  to  made  in  this  town :  you  have  also  heard  what 
these  worthy  gentlemen  have  witnessed  against 

him;  also  you  have  heard  his  reply  and  confession:  It  lieth 

now  in  your  breasts  to  hang  him,  or  save  his  life;  But  yet  I 

think  meet  to  instruct  you  into  our  law. 

There  was  an  act  made  in  the  days  of  Pharaoh  the  Great, 

servant  to  our  prince,  That  lest  those  of  a  contrary  religion 
should  multiply  and  grow  too  strong  for  him, 
their  males  should  be  thrown  into  the  river. 

There  was  also  an  act  made  in  the  days  of  Nebuchadnezzar 

the  Great,  another  of  his  servants,  that  whoever  would  not 
fall  down  and  worship  his  golden  image,  should 

Dan.  m. 

be   thrown   into   a   nery   furnace.     There   was 

also  an  act  made  in  the  days  of  Darius,  That  whoso,  for  some 

time,  called  upon  any  God  but  him,  should  be 

Dan.  vi.  .  .         ,     , 

cast  into  the  lions  den.  Now  the  substance 
of  these  laws  this  rebel  has  broken,  not  only  in  thought  (which 
is  not  to  be  borne)  but  also  in  word  and  deed;  which  must 
therefore  needs  be  intolerable. 

For  that  of  Pharaoh,  his  law  was  made  upon  a  supposition, 
to  prevent  mischief,  no  crime  being  yet  apparent;  but  here  is 
a  crime  apparent.  For  the  second  and  third,  you  see  he 
disputeth  against  our  religion;  and  for  the  treason  he  hath 
confessed,  he  deserveth  to  die  the  death. 

Then  went  the  jury  out,  whose  names  were:  Mr.  Blind- 
man,  Mr.  No-good,  Mr.  Malice,  Mr.  Love-lust,  Mr.  Live- 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  99 

loose,  Mr.  Heady,  Mr.  High-mind,  Mr.  Enmity,  Mr.  Liar, 
Mr.  Cruelty,  Mr.  Hate-light,  and  Mr.  Impla- 
their^name"d        cable,  who  every  one  gave  in  his  private  ver- 
dict against  him  among  themselves,  and  after- 
wards unanimously  concluded  to  bring  him  in  guilty  before 
the  judge.     And  first  among  themselves,  Mr. 
pnmte^e'rdict.       Blind-man,  the  foreman,  said,  I  see  clearly  that 
this  man  is  an  heretic.     Then  said  Mr.  No- 
good,  Away  with  such  a  fellow  from  the  earth.     Ay,  said  Mr. 
Malice,  for  I  hate  the  very  looks  of  him.     Then  said  Mr. 
Love-lust,  I  could  never  endure  him.     Nor  I,  said  Mr.  Live- 
loose,  for  he  would  always  be  condemning  my  way.     Hang 
him,  hang  him,  said  Mr.  Heady.     A  sorry  scrub,  said  Mr. 
High-mind.     My  heart  riseth  against  him,  said  Mr.  Enmity. 
He  is  a  rogue,  said  Mr.  Liar.     Hanging  is  too  good  for  him, 
said  Mr.  Cruelty.     Let's  despatch  him  out  of  the  way,  said 
Mr.     Hate-light.     Then  said  Mr.  Implacable,  Might  I  have 
all  the  world  given  me,  I  could  not  be  reconciled  to  him; 
therefore  let  us  forthwith  bring  him  in  guilty  of  death.     And 
so  thev  did;  therefore  he  was  presently  con- 

They  conclude  to  \ 

bring  him  in         demned,  To  be  had  from  the  place  where  he 

guilty  of  death.  .11*11  j 

was,  to  the  place  from  whence  he  came,  and 

there  to  be  put  to  the  most  cruel  death  that  could  be  invented. 

They  therefore  brought  him  out,  to  do  with  him  according 

to  their  law;  and  first  they  scourged  him,  then  they  buffeted 

him,  then  they  lanced  his  flesh  with  knives; 

after  that»  they  stoned  him  with  stones,  then 

pricked  him  with  their  swords;  and  last  of  all 
A  chariot  and  they  burned  him  to  ashes  at  the  stake.1  Thus 

horses  wait  to  T^    • .  i   (•    i     .        i  •  i         T^.T  T  .  i      , 

takeaway  came  raithful   to   his  end.     Now,  1  saw  that 

there  stood  behind  the  multitude,  a  chariot  and 

a  couple  of  horses,  waiting  for  Faithful,  who  (so  soon  as  his 

1  Brave  Faithful,  bravely  done  in  word  and  deed; 
Judge,  witnesses,  and  jury,  have  instead 
Of  overcoming  thee,  but  shown  their  rage: 
When  they  are  dead,  thou'lt  live,  from  age  to  age. 


100  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

adversaries  had  despatched  him)  was  taken  up  into  it  and 

straightway  was  carried  up  through  the  clouds,  with  sound 

of  trumpet,  the  nearest  way  to  the  Celestial  Gate.     But  as 

for  Christian,  he  had   some  respite,  and  was 

Christian  is  still    reman(jed  back  to  prison,  so  he  there  remained 

for  a  space:   But  he  that  overrules  all  things, 

having  the  power  of  their  rage  in  his  own  hand,  so  wrought 

it  about,  that  Christian  for  that  time  escaped  them,  and 

went  his  way. 

And  as  he  went  he  sang,  saying : 

The  song  that         Well,  Faithful,  thou  hast  faithfully  profest 

C?r'?fe  f  aie      Unto  thy  Lord:  with  whom  thou  shalt  be  blest; 
of  Faithful  after  ,         . J .  .          .          .  ' 

his  death.  When  faithless  ones,  with  all  their  vain  delights, 

Are  crying  out  under  their  hellish  plights, 
Sing,  Faithful,  sing;  and  let  thy  name  survive, 
For  though  they  kill'd  thee,  thou  art  yet  alive. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  Christian  went  not  forth 

alone,  for  there  was  one  whose  name  was  Hopeful  (being 

made  so  by  the   beholding  of  Christian   and 

Christian  has  .  °  .         . 

another  v  aithf ul  in  their  words  and  behavior  in  their 

companion.  «••  ,,i       i»    •  \         i        •    •       i  i  •          i«> 

sufferings  at  the  tair),  who  joined  himself  unto 
him,  and,  entering  into  a  brotherly  covenant,  told  him  that 
he  would  be  his  companion.     Thus,  one  died  to  bear  testi- 
mony to  the  truth,  and  another  rises  out  of  his 

There  are  more  '  .  . 

of  the  men  of  the    ashes  to  be  a  companion  with  Christian  in  his 
pilgrimage.     This  Hopeful  also  told  Christian 

that  there  were  many  more  of  the  men  in  the  fair  that  would 

take  their  time  and  follow  after. 

So  I  saw  that  quickly  after  they  were  got  out  of  the  fair 

they  overtook  one  that  was  going  before  them,  whose  name 
was    By-ends:    so    they    said    to    him,    What 

™yyendse"a1{e        countryman,    Sir?    and   how   far   go   you   this 
way?     He  told  them  that  he  came  from  the 

town  of  Fair-speech,  and  he  was  going  to  the  Celestial  City 

(but  told  them  not  his  name). 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  101 

From  Fair-speech!  said  Christian;   is  there  any  that  be 
good  that  lives  there  ? 

BY-ENDS.     Yes,  said  By-ends,  I  hope. 
CHR.     Pray,  Sir,  what  may  I  call  you  ?  said  Christian. 

BY-ENDS.     I  am  a  stranger  to  you,  and  you 

nlL.  to  me:  if  y°u  be  g°ing this  way» J  sha11  be  glad 

of  your  company;  if  not,  I  must  be  content. 

CHR.  This  town  of  Fair-speech  I  have  heard  of,  and,  as  I 
remember,  they  say  it's  a  wealthy  place. 

BY-ENDS.  Yes,  I  will  assure  you  that  it  is;  and  I  have 
very  many  rich  kindred  there. 

CHR.  Pray,  who  are  your  kindred  there,  if  a  man  may  be 
so  bold? 

BY-ENDS.  Almost  the  whole  town;  and,  in  particular,  my 
Lord  Turn-about,  my  Lord  Time-server,  my  Lord  Fair-speech 
(from  whose  ancestors  that  town  first  took  its  name) :  also  Mr. 
Smooth-man,  Mr.  Facing-both-ways,  Mr.  Anything;  and  the 
parson  of  our  parish,  Mr.  Two-tongues,  was  my  mother's 
own  brother,  by  father's  side;  and  to  tell  you  the  truth,  I  am 
become  a  gentleman  of  good  quality;  yet  my  great-grand- 
father was  but  a  waterman,  looking  one  way  and  rowing  an- 
other; and  I  got  most  of  my  estate  by  the  same  occupation. 

CHR.     Are  you  a  married  man  ? 

BY-ENDS.     Yes,  and  my  wife  is  a  very  virtuous  woman, 

the  daughter  of  a  virtuous  woman;  She  was  my  Lady  Feign- 

ing's  daughter,  therefore  she  came  of  a  very 

The  wife  and  c  ,  ,       .        .,  ,     . 

kindred  of  honorable   family,   and    is   arrived   to   such   a 

pitch  of  breeding  that  she  knows  how  to  carry 

it  to  all,  even  to  prince  and  peasant.     'Tis  true,  we  somewhat 

differ  in  religion  from  those  of  the  stricter  sort,  yet  but  in 

two  small  points :  First,  we  never  strive  against 

di/erl from"  '       wind  and  tide:  Secondly,  we  are  always  most 

religion1  zealous  when  Religion  goes  in  his  silver  slippers; 

we  love  much  to  walk  with  him  in  the  street,  if 

the  sun  shines,  and  the  people  applaud  him. 


102  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

Then  Christian  stepped  a  little  aside  to  his  fellow  Hopeful, 
saying,  It  runs  in  my  mind  that  this  is  one  By-ends  of  Fair- 
speech,  and  if  it  be  he,  we  have  as  very  a  knave  in  our  com- 
pany as  dwelleth  in  all  these  parts.  Then  said  Hopeful,  Ask 
him;  methinks  he  should  not  be  ashamed  of  his  name.  So 
Christian  came  up  with  him  again,  and  said.  Sir,  you  talk  as 
if  you  knew  something  more  than  all  the  world  doth,  and  if 
I  take  not  my  mark  amiss,  I  deem  I  have  half  a  guess  of  you: 
Is  not  your  name  Mr.  By-ends  of  Fair-speech  ? 

BY-ENDS.  This  is  not  my  name,  but  indeed  it  is  a  nick- 
name that  is  given  me  by  some  that  cannot  abide  me;  and  I 
must  be  content  to  bear  it  as  a  reproach,  as  other  good  men 
have  borne  theirs  before  me. 

CHR.  But  did  you  never  give  an  occasion  to  men  to  call 
you  by  this  name? 

BY-ENDS.     Never,  never !  the  worst  that  ever  I  did  to 
give  them  an  occasion  to  give  me  this  name  was,  That  I 
had  always  the  luck  to  jump  in  my  judgment 
with  the  Present  way  of  the  times,  whatever  it 
was,  and  my  chance  was  to  get  thereby;  but 
if  things  are  thus  cast  upon  me,  let  me  count  them  a  blessing, 
but  let  not  the  malicious  load  me  therefore  with  reproach. 

CHR.  I  thought  indeed  that  you  were  the  man  that  I 
heard  of,  and  to  tell  you  what  I  think,  I  fear  this  name  be- 
longs to  you  more  properly  than  you  are  willing  we  should 
think  it  doth. 

BY-ENDS.     Well,    if   you  will    thus  imagine, 

He  desires  to 

keep  company        I    cannot    help    it.       You    shall    nnd    me    a 

with  Christian.         „    .  .„  M1        .  .n         *      .. 

fair  company-keeper,  if  you    will    still    admit 
me   your  associate. 

CHR.  If  you  will  go  with  us,  you  must  go  against  wind 
and  tide,  the  which,  I  perceive,  is  against  your  opinion:  You 
must  also  own  Religion  in  his  rags,  as  well  as  when  in  his 
silver  slippers,  and  stand  by  him  too,  when  bound  in  irons, 
as  well  as  when  he  walketh  the  streets  with  applause. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  103 

BY-ENDS.  You  must  not  impose,  nor  lord  it  over  my 
faith;  leave  me  to  my  liberty,  and  let  me  go  with  you. 

CHR.  Not  a  step  further,  unless  you  will  do  in  what  I 
propound,  as  we. 

Then  said  By-ends,  I  shall  never  desert  my  old  principles, 
since  they  are  harmless  and  profitable.  If  I  may  not  go 
with  you,  I  must  do  as  I  did  before  you  overtook  me,  even 
go  by  myself,  until  some  overtake  me  that  will  be  glad  of  my 
company. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  Christian  and  Hopeful  for- 
sook him,  and  kept  their  distance  before  him;  but  one  of  them 
looking   back,   saw   three   men   following   Mr. 
Ch^tianlirt.      By-ends,  and  behold,  as  they  came  up  with 
him,  he  made  them  a  very  low  congee,  and  they 
also  gave  him  a  compliment.     The  men's  names  were  Mr. 
Hold-the-world,  Mr.  Money-love,  and  Mr.  Save-all;  men  that 
Mr.    By-ends    had    formerly   been   acquainted 
wmpaanion*.          witn'  ^or  m  t*ieir  minority  they  were  school- 
fellows, and  taught  by  one  Mr.  Gripe-man,  a 
schoolmaster  in  Love-gain,  which  is  a  market-town  in  the 
county  of  Coveting,  in  the  north.     This  schoolmaster  taught 
them  the  art  of  getting,  either  by  violence,  cozenage,  flattery, 
lying,  or  by  putting  on  a  guise  of  religion;  and  these  four  gen- 
tlemen had  attained  much  of  the  art  of  their  master,  so  that 
they  could  each  of  them  have  kept  such  a  school  themselves. 

Well,  when  they  had,  as  I  said,  thus  saluted  each  other, 
Mr.  Money-love  said  to  Mr.  By-ends,  Who  are  they  upon 
the  road  before  us?  (For  Christian  and  Hopeful  were  yet 
within  view.) 

B  ends'  BY-ENDS.     They  are  a  couple  of  far  country- 

character  of  the      men,  that  after  their  mode  are  going  on  pil- 

pilgnms. 

gnmage. 

MONEY-LOVE.  Alas  !  why  did  not  they  stay,  that  we  might 
have  had  their  good  company?  for  they,  and  we,  and  you, 
Sir,  I  hope,  are  all  going  on  a  pilgrimage. 


104  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

BY-ENDS.  We  are  so  indeed,  but  the  men  before  us  are 
so  rigid,  and  love  so  much  their  own  notions,  and  do  also  so 
lightly  esteem  the  opinions  of  others,  that  let  a  man  be  never 
so  godly,  yet  if  he  jumps  not  with  them  in  all  things,  they 
thrust  him  quite  out  of  their  company. 

SAVE-ALL.  That's  bad;  but  we  read  of  some,  that  are 
righteous  overmuch;  and  such  men's  rigidness  prevails  with 
them  to  judge  and  condemn  all  but  themselves.  But  I 
pray,  what,  and  how  many,  were  the  things  wherein  you 
differed  ? 

BY-ENDS.  Why  they,  after  their  headstrong  manner,  con- 
clude that  it  is  duty  to  rush  on  their  journey  all  weathers, 
and  I  am  for  waiting  for  wind  and  tide.  They  are  for  haz- 
arding all  for  God  at  a  clap,  and  I  am  for  taking  all  advan- 
tages to  secure  my  life  and  estate.  They  are  for  holding 
their  notions,  though  all  other  men  be  against  them;  but  I 
am  for  religion  in  what,  and  so  far  as,  the  times  and  my 
safety  will  bear  it.  They  are  for  religion  when  in  rags  and 
contempt;  but  I  am  for  him  when  he  walks  in  his  golden  slip- 
pers, in  the  sunshine,  and  with  applause. 

HOLD-THE- WORLD.  Ay,  and  hold  you  there  still,  good  Mr. 
By-ends;  for,  for  my  part,  I  can  count  him  but  a  fool,  that, 
having  the  liberty  to  keep  what  he  has,  shall  be  so  unwise 
as  to  lose  it.  Let  us  be  wise  as  serpents:  'tis  best  to  make 
hay  when  the  sun  shines;  you  see  how  the  bee  lieth  still  all 
winter,  and  bestirs  her  only  when  she  can  have  profit  with 
pleasure.  God  sends  sometimes  rain,  and  sometimes  sun- 
shine; if  they  be  such  fools  to  go  through  the  first,  yet  let  us 
be  content  to  take  fair  weather  along  with  us.  For  my  part, 
I  like  that  religion  best  that  will  stand  with  the  security  of 
God's  good  blessings  unto  us;  for  who  can  imagine,  that  is 
ruled  by  his  reason,  since  God  has  bestowed  upon  us  the 
good  things  of  this  life,  but  that  he  would  have  us  keep  them 
for  his  sake?  Abraham  and  Solomon  grew  rich  in  religion. 
And  Job  says,  that  a  good  man  shall  lay  up  gold  as  dust. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  105 

But  he  must  not  be  such  as  the  men  before  us,  if  they  be  as 
you  have  described  them. 

SAVE-ALL.  I  think  that  we  are  all  agreed  in  this  matter, 
and  therefore  there  needs  no  more  words  about  it. 

MONEY-LOVE.  No,  there  needs  no  more  words  about  this 
matter  indeed;  for  he  that  believes  neither  Scripture  nor 
reason  (and  you  see  we  have  both  on  our  side)  neither  knows 
his  own  liberty  nor  seeks  his  own  safety. 

BY-ENDS.  My  brethren,  we  are,  as  you  see,  going  all  on 
pilgrimage;  and  for  our  better  diversion  from  things  that  are 
bad,  give  me  leave  to  propound  unto  you  this  question: 

Suppose  a  man,  a  minister  or  a  tradesman,  etc.,  should 
have  an  advantage  lie  before  him  to  get  the  good  blessings 
of  this  life,  yet  so  as  that  he  can  by  no  means  come  by  them, 
except,  in  appearance  at  least,  he  becomes  extraordinary 
zealous  in  some  points  of  religion  that  he  meddled  not  with 
before;  may  he  not  use  this  means  to  attain  his  end,  and  yet 
be  a  right  honest  man  ? 

MONEY-LOVE.  I  see  the  bottom  of  your  question,  and 
with  these  gentlemen's  good  leave,  I  will  endeavor  to  shape 
you  an  answer.  And  first  to  speak  to  your  question  as  it 
concerneth  a  minister  himself:  Suppose  a  minister,  a  worthy 
man,  possessed  but  of  a  very  small  benefice,  and  has  in  his 
eye  a  greater,  more  fat  and  plump  by  far;  he  has  also  now 
an  opportunity  of  getting  of  it,  yet  so  as  by  being  more 
studious,  by  preaching  more  frequently  and  zealously,  and, 
because  the  temper  of  the  people  requires  it,  by  altering  of 
some  of  his  principles;  for  my  part  I  see  no  reason  but  a 
man  may  do  this  (provided  he  has  a  call),  ay,  and  more  a 
great  deal  besides,  and  yet  be  an  honest  man.  For  why — 

1.  His  desire  of  a  greater  benefice  is  lawful  (this  cannot  be 
contradicted),  since  it  is  set  before  him  by  providence;  so 
then,  he  may  get  it  if  he  can,  making  no  question  for  con- 
science sake. 

2.  Besides,  his  desire  after  that  benefice  makes  him  more 


106  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

studious,  a  more  zealous  preacher,  etc.,  and  so  makes  him  a 
better  man;  yea,  makes  him  better  improve  his  parts,  which 
is  according  to  the  mind  of  God. 

3.  Now  as  for  his  complying  with  the  temper  of  his  people, 
by  dissenting,  to  serve  them,  some  of  his  principles,   this 
argue th,     1.  That  he  is  of  a  self-denying  temper;  2.  Of  a 
sweet  and  winning  deportment;  3.  And  so  more  fit  for  the 
ministerial  function. 

4.  I  conclude  then,  that  a  minister  that  changes  a  small 
for  a  great,  should  not  for  so  doing  be  judged  as  covetous; 
but  rather,  since  he  is  improved  in  his  parts  and  industry 
thereby,  be  counted  as  one  that  pursues  his  call,  and  the 
opportunity  put  into  his  hand  to  do  good. 

And  now  to  the  second  part  of  the  question  which  con- 
cerns the  tradesman  you  mentioned:  Suppose  such  an  one 
to  have  but  a  poor  employ  in  the  world,  but  by  becoming 
religious,  he  may  mend  his  market,  perhaps  get  a  rich  wife, 
or  more  and  far  better  customers  to  his  shop;  for  my  part  I 
see"  no  reason  but  this  may  be  lawfully  done.  For  why — 

1.  To  become  religious  is  a  virtue,  by  what  means  soever 
a  man  becomes  so. 

2.  Nor  is  it  unlawful  to  get  a  rich  wife,  or  more  custom  to 
my  shop. 

3.  Besides,  the  man  that  gets  these  by  becoming  religious, 
gets  that  which  is  good,  of  them  that  are  good,  by  becoming 
good  himself:  so  then  here  is  a  good  wife,  and  good  customers, 
and  good  gain,  and  all  these  by  becoming  religious,  which  is 
good:  therefore  to  become  religious  to  get  all  these  is  a  good 
and  profitable  design. 

This  answer,  thus  made  by  this  Mr.  Money-love  to  Mr. 
By-ends'  question,  was  highly  applauded  by  them  all;  where- 
fore they  concluded  upon  the  whole,  that  it  was  most  whole- 
some and  advantageous.  And  because,  as  they  thought,  no 
man  was  able  to  contradict  it,  and  because  Christian  and 
Hopeful  were  yet  within  call,  they  jointly  agreed  to  assault 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  107 

them  with  the  question  as  soon  as  they  overtook  them,  and 
the  rather  because  they  had  opposed  Mr.  By-ends  before. 
So  they  called  after  them,  and  they  stopped,  and  stood  still 
till  they  came  up  to  them;  but  they  concluded  as  they  went, 
that  not  Mr.  By-ends,  but  old  Mr.  Hold-the- world,  should 
propound  the  question  to  them,  because,  as  they  supposed, 
their  answer  to  him  would  be  without  the  remainder  of  that 
heat  that  was  kindled  betwixt  Mr.  By-ends  and  them,  at 
their  parting  a  little  before. 

So  they  came  up  to  each  other,  and  after  a  short  salu- 
tation, Mr.  Hold-the-world  propounded  the  question  to 
Christian  and  his  fellow,  and  bid  them  to  answer  it  if  they 
could. 

CHR.     Then  said  Christian,  Even  a  babe  in  religion  may 

answer  ten  thousand  such  questions.     For  if  it  be  unlawful 

to  follow  Christ  for  loaves,  as  it  is,  how  much 

John  vi.  . 

more  abominable  is  it  to  make  01  him  and 
religion  a  stalking-horse,  to  get  and  enjoy  the  world?  Nor 
do  we  find  any  other  than  heathens,  hypocrites,  devils,  and 
witches,  that  are  of  this  opinion. 

1.  Heathens:  for  when  Hamor  and  Shechem  had  a  mind 
to  the  daughter  and  cattle  of  Jacob,  and  saw  that  there  was 
no  way  for  them  to  come  at  them  but  by  becoming  circum- 
cised, they  say  to  their  companions:  If  every  male  of  us  be 
circumcised,  as  they  are  circumcised,  shall  not  their  cattle, 
and  their  substance,   and  every  beast  of  theirs,  be  ours? 

Their  daughter  and  their  cattle  were  that  which 
2o-<bx:mP'  tnev  sought  to  obtain,  and  their  religion  the 

stalking-horse  they  made  use  of  to  come  at 
them.  Read  the  whole  story. 

2.  The  hypocritical  Pharisees  were  also  of  this  religion; 

long  prayers  were  their  pretense,  but  to  get 
widows'  houses  was  their  intent;  and  greater 
damnation  was  from  God  their  judgment. 

3.  Judas  the  devil  was  also  of  this  religion;  he  was  religious 


108  THE   PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

for  the  bag,  that  he  might  be  possessed  of  what  was  therein; 
but  he  was  lost,  cast  away,  and  the  very  son  of  perdition. 

4.  Simon  the  witch  was  of  this  religion  too:  for  he  would 

have  had  the  Holy  Ghost,  that  he  might  have 

Acts.  vni.  19-22.  . 

got  money  therewith,   and  his  sentence  from 
Peter's  mouth  was  according. 

5.  Neither  will  it  out  of  my  mind,  but  that  that  man  that 
takes  up  religion  for  the  world,  will  throw  away  religion  for 
the  world;  for  so  surely  as  Judas  designed  the  world  in  be- 
coming religious,  so  surely  did  he  also  sell  religion  and  his 
Master  for   the   same.     To   answer  the   question   therefore 
affirmatively,  as  I  perceive  you  have  done,  and  to  accept  of 
as  authentic  such  answer,  is  both  heathenish,  hypocritical, 
and  devilish,  and  your  reward  will  be  according  to  your 
works.     Then  they  stood  staring  one  upon  another,  but  had 
not  wherewith  to  answer  Christian.     Hopeful  also  approved 
of  the  soundness  of  Christian's  answer;  so  there  was  a  great 
silence  among  them.     Mr.  By-ends  and  his  company  also 
staggered  and  kept  behind,  that  Christian  and  Hopeful  might 
outgo  them.     Then  said  Christian  to  his  fellow,  If  these  men 
cannot  stand  before  the  sentence  of  men,  what  will  they  do 
with  the  sentence  of  God  ?     And  if  they  are  mute  when  dealt 
with  by  vessels  of  clay,  what  will  they  do  when  they  shall  be 
rebuked  by  the  flames  of  a  devouring  fire  ? 

Then   Christian  and   Hopeful   outwent  them  again,   and 

went  till  they  came  at  a  delicate  plain  called  Ease,  where 

they  went  with  much  content;  but  that  plain 

The  ease  that  i  ,  •>  •   i  i 

pilgrims  have  is     was  but  narrow,  so  they  were  quickly  got  over 
thislu£in  it-     Now  at  the  further  side  of  that  plain  was 

a  little  hill  called  Lucre,  and  in  that  hill  a  sil- 
ver-mine, which  some  of  them  that  had  formerly  gone  that 
way,  because  of  the  rarity  of  it,  had  turned  aside  to  see;  but 
going  too  near  the  brink  of  the  pit,  the  ground 
bein2  deceitful  under    them,  broke,  and  they 
were  slain;   some  also  had  been  maimed  there, 
and  could  not  to  their  dying  day  be  their  own  men  again. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  109 

Then  I  saw   in  my  dream,    that  a  little  off   the   road, 

Demos  at  the         over    against    the    silver-mine,    stood    Demas 

(gentlemanlike)  to  call  to  passengers  to  come 

He  calls  to  and  see ;  who  said  to  Christian  and  his  fellow : 

Christian  and          TT  .  .       ,  .  .  .    _        ... 

Hopeful  to  come     Ho,  turn  aside   hither,   and   I  will   show   you 

to  him.  ,i  • 

a  thing. 

CHR.  What  thing  so  deserving,  as  to  turn  us  out  of  the 
way? 

DEMAS.  Here  is  a  silver-mine,  and  some  digging  in  it  for 
treasure;  if  you  will  come,  with  a  little  pains  you  may  richly 
provide  for  yourselves. 

HOPE.     Then  said  Hopeful,  Let  us  go  see. 
to°go,butem  CHR.     Not  I,  said  Christian;  I  have  heard  of 

hi^tholds      this  place   before  now,   and   how   many   have 
there  been  slain;  and  besides,  that  treasure  is  a 
snare  to  those  that  seek  it,  for  it  hindereth  them  in  their  pil- 
grimage.    Then    Christian    called    to    Demas, 

tlos.  iv.  18.  . 

saying,  Is  not  the  place  dangerous  ?  hath  it  not 
hindered  many  in  their  pilgrimage? 

DEMAS.  Not  very  dangerous,  except  to  those  that  are 
careless;  but  withal,  he  blushed  as  he  spake. 

CHR.  Then  said  Christian  to  Hopeful,  Let  us  not  stir  a 
step,  but  still  keep  on  our  way. 

HOPE.  I  will  warrant  you,  when  By-ends  comes  up,  if  he 
hath  the  same  invitation  as  we,  he  will  turn  in  thither  to  see. 

CHR.  No  doubt  thereof,  for  his  principles  lead  him  that 
way,  and  a  hundred  to  one  but  he  dies  there. 

DEMAS.  Then  Demas  called  again,  saying,  But  will  you 
not  come  over  and  see  ? 

CHR.     Then  Christian  roundly  answered,  saying,  Demas, 

Thou  art  an  enemy  to  the  right  ways  of  the  Lord  of  this  way, 

and   hast  been   already   condemned   for  thine 

roundethup          own   turning   aside,   by  one  of  his   Majesty's 

^Tim. '  iv.  10.       judges;  and  why  seekest  thou  to  bring  us  into 

the  like  condemnation  ?     Besides,  if  we  at  all 

turn  aside,  our  Lord  the  King  will  certainly  hear  thereof,  and 


110  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

will  there  put  us  to  shame,  where  we  would  stand  with  bold- 
ness before  him. 

Demas  cried  again,  That  he  also  was  one  of  their  frater- 
nity; and  that  if  they  would  tarry  a  little,  he  also  himself 
would  walk  with  them. 

CHR.  Then  said  Christian,  What  is  thy  name?  is  it  not 
the  same  by  the  which  I  have  called  thee? 

DEMAS.  Yes,  my  name  is  Demas,  I  am  the  son  of  Abra- 
ham. 

CHR.     I  know  you,  Gehazi  was  your  great-grandfather, 
and  Judas  your  father,  and  you  have  trod  their 
steps.     It  is  but  a  devilish  prank  that  thou 
Matt^xxm.  usest;  thy  father  was  hanged  for  a  traitor,  and 

Chap.  xxviL          thou  deservest  no  better  reward.     Assure  thy- 
self that  when  we  come  to  the  King,  we  will  do 
him  word  of  this  thy  behavior.     Thus  they  went  their  way. 
By  this  time  By-ends  and  his  companions  were  come  again 
within  sight,  and  they  at  the  first  beck  went  over  to  Demas. 
Now,  whether  they  fell  into  the  pit  by  looking 
mL.       over  tne  brink  thereof,  or  whether  they  went 
down  to  dig,  or  whether  they  were  smothered 
in  the  bottom,  by  the  damps  that  commonly  arise,  of  these 
things  I  am  not  certain;  But  this  I  observed,  that  they  never 
were  seen  again  in  the  way.     Then  sang  Christian: 

By-ends  and  Silver-Demas  both  agree; 
One  calls,  the  other  runs,  that  he  may  be 
A  sharer  in  his  lucre;  so  these  two 
Take  up  in  this  world,  and  no  further  go. 

Now  I  saw,  that  just  on  the  other  side  of  this  plain,  the 
pilgrims  came  to  a  place  where  stood  an  old  monument,  hard 
Th  see  a  ^v  ^  highway-side,  at  the  sight  of  which 

strange  they    were    both    concerned,    because    of    the 

monument.  f     ,        „  ,  „      (, 

strangeness  ot  the  torm  tnereot;  tor  it  seemed 
to  them  as  if  it  had  been  a  woman  transformed  into  the 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  111 

shape  of  a  pillar :  here  therefore  they  stood  looking,  and  look- 
ing upon  it,  but  could  not  for  a  time  tell  what  they  should 
make  thereof.  At  last  Hopeful  espied  written  above  upon 
the  head  thereof,  a  writing  in  an  unusual  hand;  but  he  being 
no  scholar,  called  to  Christian  (for  he  was  learned)  to  see  if 
he  could  pick  out  the  meaning;  so  he  came,  and  after  a  little 
laying  of  letters  together,  he  found  the  same  to  be  this,  "Re- 
member Lot's  wife."  So  he  read  it  to  his  fellow;  after  which 
they  both  concluded  that  that  was  the  pillar 

Gen.  xix.  26.  f 

of  salt  into  which  Lot  s  wife  was  turned,  tor 
her  looking  back  with  a  covetous  heart,  when  she  was  going 
from  Sodom  for  safety.  Which  sudden  and  amazing  sight 
gave  them  occasion  of  this  discourse: 

CHR.  Ah,  my  brother,  this  is  a  seasonable  sight;  it  came 
opportunely  to  us  after  the  invitation  which  Demas  gave  us 
to  come  over  to  view  the  Hill  Lucre;  and  had  we  gone  over 
as  he  desired  us,  and  as  thou  wast  inclined  to  do  (my  brother), 
we  had,  for  aught  I  know,  been  made  ourselves  like  this 
woman,  a  spectacle  for  those  that  shall  come  after  to  behold. 

HOPE.  I  am  sorry  that  I  was  so  foolish,  and  am  made  to 
wonder  that  I  am  not  now  as  Lot's  wife;  for  wherein  was  the 
difference  'twixt  her  sin  and  mine?  she  only  looked  back, 
and  I  had  a  desire  to  go  see.  Let  grace  be  adored,  and  let 
me  be  ashamed  that  ever  such  a  thing  should  be  in  mine 
heart. 

CHR.  Let  us  take  notice  of  what  we  see  here,  for  our 
help  for  time  to  come:  this  woman  escaped  one  judgment, 
for  she  fell  not  by  the  destruction  of  Sodom;  yet  she  was 
destroyed  by  another;  as  we  see,  she  is  turned  into  a  pillar 
of  salt. 

HOPE.  True,  and  she  may  be  to  us  both  caution  and 
example;  caution  that  we  should  shun  her  sin,  or  a  sign  of 
what  judgment  will  overtake  such  as  shall  not  be  prevented 
by  this  caution:  so  Korah,  Dathan,  and  Abiram,  with  the 
two  hundred  and  fifty  men  that  perished  in  their  sin,  did 


112  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

also  become  a  sign  or  example  to  others  to  beware :  but  above 

all,  I  muse  at  one  thing,  to  wit,  how  Demas 

Nmn.  xxvi.  an(j  j^s  feuows  can  stand  so  confidently  yonder 

to  look  for  that  treasure,  which  this  woman, 

but  for  looking  behind  her,  after  (for  we  read  not  that  she 

stepped  one  foot  out  of  the  way)  was  turned  into  a  pillar  of 

salt;  specially  since  the  judgment  which  overtook  her,  did 

make  her  an  example,  within  sight  of  where  they  are :  for  they 

cannot  choose  but  see  her,  did  they  but  lift  up  their  eyes. 

CHR.  It  is  a  thing  to  be  wondered  at,  and  it  argueth  that 
their  hearts  are  grown  desperate  in  the  case;  and  I  cannot 
tell  who  to  compare  them  to  so  fitly,  as  to  them  that  pick 
pockets  in  the  presence  of  the  judge,  or  that  will  cut  purses 

under  the  gallows.     It  is  said  of  the  men  of 

Gen.  xiu.  13. 

Sodom,  '  that  they  were  sinners  exceedingly, 
because  they  were  sinners  "before  the  Lord";  that  is,  in  his 
eyesight;  and  notwithstanding  the  kindnesses  that  he  had 

showed  them,  for  the  land  of  Sodom  was  now 

like  the  garden  of  Eden  heretofore.  This 
therefore  provoked  him  the  more  to  jealousy,  and  made 
their  plague  as  hot  as  the  fire  of  the  Lord  out  of  heaven 
could  make  it.  And  it  is  most  rationally  to  be  concluded, 
that  such,  even  such  as  these  are,  that  shall  sin  in  the  sight, 
yea,  and  that  too  in  despite  of  such  examples  that  are  set 
continually  before  them,  to  caution  them  to  the  contrary, 
must  be  partakers  of  severest  judgments. 

HOPE.  Doubtless  thou  hast  said  the  truth;  but  what  a 
mercy  is  it,  that  neither  thou,  but  especially  I,  am  not  made 
myself  this  example:  this  ministereth  occasion  to  us  to  thank 
God,  to  fear  before  him,  and  always  to  remember  Lot's  wife. 
A  river  I  saw  then,  that  they  went  on  their  way  to 

a  pleasant  river,  which  David  the  king  called 
&».£*»«.'  the  "river  of  God,"  but  John,  the  "river  of  the 

water  of  life."  Now  their  way  lay  just  upon 
the  bank  of  the  river;  here  therefore  Christian  and  his 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  113 

companion  walked  with  great  delight;  they  drank  also  of 

the  water  of  the  river,  which  was  pleasant  and  enlivening  to 

their  weary  spirits:  besides,  on  the  banks  of  this  river  on 

either  side  were  green  trees,  that  bore  all  man- 

Trees  by  the  .  ' 

river.  ner  oi  truit;  and  the  leaves  of  the  trees  were 

The  fruit  and  g°°d  for  medicine;  with  the  fruit  of  these  trees 
lter™ess  °f the  they  were  also  much  delighted;  and  the  leaves 
they  ate  to  prevent  surfeits,  and  other  diseases 
that  are  incident  to  those  that  heat  their  blood  by  travels. 
On  either  side  of  the  river  was  also  a  meadow,  curiously 
beautified  with  lilies;  and  it  was  green  all  the  year  long.  In 
A  meadow  in  tn*s  meadow  they  lay  down  and  slept,  for  here 
which  they  lie  thev  might  lie  down  safely.  When  they  awoke, 

down  to  sleep. 

Ps.  xxiii.  2.          they  gathered  again  or  the  fruit  of  the  trees, 

Isa.  xiv.  30.  ITT  <>   .  i  i 

and  drank  again  or  the  water  ui  the  river,  and 
then  lay  down  again  to  sleep.  Thus  they  did  several  days 
and  nights.  Then  they  sang: 

Behold  ye  how  these  crystal  streams  do  glide 

(To  comfort  Pilgrims)  by  the  highway-side; 

The  meadows  green,  besides  their  fragrant  smell, 

Yield  dainties  for  them;  And  he  that  can  tell 

What  pleasant  fruit,  yea,  leaves,  these  trees  do  yield, 

Will  soon  sell  all,  that  he  may  buy  this  field. 

So  when  they  were  disposed  to  go  on  (for  they  were 
not,  as  yet,  at  their  journey's  end)  they  ate  and  drank,  and 
departed. 

Now  I  beheld  in  my  dream,  that  they  had  not  journeyed 

far,  but  the  river  and  the  way,  for  a  time,  parted;  at  which 

they  were  not  a  little  sorry,  yet  they  durst  not  go  out  of  the 

way.     Now  the  way  from  the  river  was  rough,  and  their  feet 

.  tender  by  reason  of  their  travels;  so  the  souls 

Num.  xxi.  4.  / 

of  the  pilgrims  were  much  discouraged  because 
of  the  way:  Wherefore  still  as  they  went  on,  they  wished  for 
better  way.  Now  a  little  before  them,  there  was  on  the  left 
hand  of  the  road  a  meadow,  and  a  stile  to  go  over  into  it, 


114  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

and  that  meadow  is  called  By-path  Meadow.  Then  said 
Christian  to  his  fellow,  If  this  meadow  lieth 

By-path 

Meadow.  along   by  our  wayside,   let  s  go   over   into   it. 

~  ...         Then  he  went  to  the  stile  to  see,  and  behold  a 

Une  temptation 

does  make  way      path  lay  along  by  the  way  on  the  other  side  of 

for  another.  r  '  ° 

the   tence.       lis   according   to    my  wish,  said 

Christian,  here  is  the  easiest  going;  come,  good  Hopeful,  and 

let  us  go  over. 

HOPE.     But  how  if  this  path  should  lead  us  out  of  the  way  ? 
CHR.     That's  not  like,  said  the  other;  look,  doth  it  not  go 

along  by  the  wayside  ?  So  Hopeful,  being  persuaded  by  his 
fellow,  went  after  him  over  the  stile.  When 
they  were  gone  over,  and  were  got  into  the 
path,  they  found  it  very  easy  for  their  feet: 
and  withal,  they  looking  before  them,  espied 

a  man  walking  as  they  did  (and  his  name  was  Vain-confi- 

dence), so  they  called  after  him,  and  asked  him  whither  that 
way  led  ?  He  said,  To  the  Celestial  Gate.  Look, 

too  suddenly  to      said  Christian,  did  not  I  tell  you  so'?  by  this 

strangers!  vou  mav  se^  we  are  right.     So  they  followed, 

and   he   went   before   them.     But   behold   the 

night  came  on,  and  it  grew  very  dark,  so  that  they  that  were 

behind  lost  the  sight  of  him  that  went  before. 

He  therefore  that  went  before   (Vain-confi- 

thePvainglorious      dence  by  name)  not  seeing  the  way  before  him, 


Tsa.  ix.  16.  fell  m^°  a  deep  pit,  which  was  on  purpose  there 

made  by  the  Prince  of  those  grounds,  to  catch 

vainglorious  fools  withal,  and  was  dashed  in  pieces  with  his 

fall. 

Now  Christian  and  his   fellow  heard  him  fall.      So  they 
called,  to  know  the  matter,  but  there  was  none 

between119  to  answer,  only  they  heard  a  groaning.     Then 

HhopefuL  and        said  Hopeful,  Where  are  we  now?     Then  was 
his   fellow  silent,  as   mistrusting  that  he  had 

led  him  out  of  the  way;  and  now  it  began  to  rain,  and  thun- 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  115 

der,  and  lighten  in  a  very  dreadful  manner,  and  the  water 
rose  amain. 

Then  Hopeful  groaned  in  himself,  saying,  Oh,  that  I  had 
kept  on  my  way  ! 

CHR.     Who  could  have  thought  that  this  path  should  have 
led  us  out  of  the  way  ? 

HOPE.     I  was  afraid  on't  at  the  very  first,  and  therefore 
gave  you  that  gentle  caution.     I  would  have  spoke  plainer, 
but  that  you  are  older  than  I. 
™  . ..    ,  CHR.     Good    brother,    be    not    offended;    I 

Christian  s 

repentance  for       am    sorry   I   have   brought    thee    out   of    the 

leading  of  his  .  . 

brother  out  of        way,  and  that  I  have  put  thee  into  such  immi- 
nent danger;   pray,  my  brother,  forgive  me,  I 
did  not  do  it  of  an  evil  intent. 

HOPE.     Be  comforted,  my  brother,  for  I  forgive  thee;  and 
believe  too  that  this  shall  be  for  our  good. 

CHR.     I  am  glad  I  have  with  me  a  merciful  brother;  But 
we  must  not  stand  thus,  let's  try  to  go  back  again. 
HOPE.     But,  good  brother,  let  me  go  before. 
CHR.     No,  if  you  please,  let  me  go  first;  that,  if  there  be 
any  danger,  I  may  be  first  therein,  because  by  my  means  we 
are  both  gone  out  of  the  way. 

HOPE.  No,  said  Hopeful,  you  shall  not  go  first;  for  your 
mind  being  troubled,  may  lead  you  out  of  the  way  again. 
Jer  xxxi  21  Then  for  their  encouragement,  they  heard  the 
voice  of  one  saying,  "Let  thine  heart  be  towards 
the  highway,  even  the  way  that  thou  wen  test;  turn  again." 
But  by  this  time  the  waters  were  greatly  risen, 
danger'of™  by  reason  of  which  the  way  of  going  back  was 
.  Vei7  danprous-  (Then  I  thought  that  it  is 
easier  going  out  of  the  way  when  we  are  in, 
than  going  in  when  we  are  out.)  Yet  they  adventured  to  go 
back;  but  it  was  so  dark,  and  the  flood  was  so  high,  that  in 
their  going  back,  they  had  like  to  have  been  drowned  nine  or 
ten  times. 


116  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

Neither  could  they,  with  all  the  skill  they  had,  get  again 
to  the  stile  that  night.     Wherefore,  at  last  lighting  under  a 
little  shelter,  they  sat  down  there  till  the  day 
the  grounds  of       brake;  but,  being  weary,  they  fell  asleep.1     Now 
there  was,  not  far  from  the  place  where  they 
lay,   a  castle,  called   Doubting   Castle,   the  owner  whereof 
was  Giant  Despair,  and  it  was  in  his  grounds  they  now  were 
sleeping:  wherefore  he  getting  up  in  the  morn- 
mg  early,   and   walking   up   and   down   in  his 
DoubtingeZa%le.    fields>  caught  Christian  and  Hopeful  asleep  in 
his  grounds.     Then  with  a  grim  and  surly  voice 
he  bid  them  awake,  and  asked  them  whence  they  were,  and 
what  they  did  in  his  grounds.     They  told  him  they  were  pil- 
grims, and  that  they  had  lost  their  way.     Then  said  the 
Giant,  You  have  this  night  trespassed  on  me,  by  trampling 
in  and  lying  on  my  grounds,  and  therefore  you  must  go  along 
with  me.     So  they  were  forced  to  go,  because  he  was  stronger 
than  they.     They  also  had  but  little  to  say,  for  they  knew 
themselves  in  a  fault.     The  giant  therefore  drove  them  be- 
fore him,  and  put  them  into  his  castle,  into  a  very  dark  dun- 
geon, nasty  and  stinking  to  the  spirits  of  these 

The  gnevousness      '  TUT 

of  their  two  men:  here  then  they  lay,  from  Wednesday 

imprisonment.  .         , .,,   0    ,        ,  .    ,  .         ..,  i  •.       p 

morning  till  Saturday  night,  without  one  bit  of 

bread,  or  drop  of  drink,  or  light,  or  any  to  ask  how  they  did. 

They  were  therefore  here  in  evil  case,  and  were 

Ps.  Ixxxviii.  18.  /  . 

far  from  friends  and  acquaintance.  JNow  in  this 
place,  Christian  had  double  sorrow,  because  'twas  through  his 
unadvised  counsel  that  they  were  brought  into  this  distress. 
Now  Giant  Despair  had  a  wife,  and  her  name  was  Diffi- 
dence. So  when  he  was  gone  to  bed,  he  told  his  wife  what 
he  had  done,  to  wit,  that  he  had  taken  a  couple  of  prisoners, 
and  cast  them  into  his  dungeon,  for  trespassing  on  his  grounds, 

1  The  Pilgrims  now,  to  gratify  the  flesh, 
Will  seek  its  ease;  but  oh !  how  they  afresh 
Do  thereby  plunge  themselves  new  griefs  into ! 
Who  seek  to  please  the  flesh,  themselves  undo. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  117 

Then  he  asked  her  also  what  he  had  best  to  do  further  to 
them.  So  she  asked  him  what  they  were,  whence  they  came, 
and  whither  they  were  bound;  and  he  told  her.  Then  she 
counselled  him,  that  when  he  arose  in  the  morning  he  should 
beat  them,  without  any  mercy.  So  when  he  arose,  he  get- 
teth  him  a  grievous  crab-tree  cudgel,  and  goes  down  into 
the  dungeon  to  them,  and  there  first  falls  to  rating  of  them 
as  if  they  were  dogs,  although  they  gave  him  never  a  word 

of  distaste.  Then  he  falls  upon  them,  and 
(Hani  Despair  beats  them  fearfully,  in  such  sort,  that  they 
prisoners.  were  not  a^^e  to  help  themselves,  or  to  turn 

them  upon  the  floor.  This  done,  he  withdraws 
and  leaves  them,  there  to  condole  their  misery,  and  to  mourn 
under  their  distress:  so  all  that  day  they  spent  the  time  in 
nothing  but  sighs  and  bitter  lamentations.  The  next  night, 
she,  talking  with  her  husband  about  them  further,  and  under- 
standing that  they  were  yet  alive,  did  advise  him  to  counsel 

them  to  make  away  themselves.  So  when 
(iiantnDe^pair  morning  was  come,  he  goes  to  them  in  a  surly 
7;i!rthemsdwsi.°  manner  as  before,  and  perceiving  them  to  be 

very  sore  with  the  stripes  that  he  had  given 
them  the  day  before,  he  told  them,  that  since  they  were 
never  like  to  come  out  of  that  place,  their  only  way  would 
be,  forthwith  to  make  an  end  of  themselves,  either  with 
knife,  halter,  or  poison:  For  why,  said  he,  should  you  choose 
life,  seeing  it  is  attended  with  so  much  bitterness  ?  But  they 
desired  him  to  let  them  go.  With  that  he  looked  ugly  upon 
them,  and  rushing  to  them  had  doubtless  made  an  end  of 
them  himself,  but  that  he  fell  into  one  of  his  fits  (for  he 

sometimes  in  sunshiny  weather  fell  into  fits), 

The  Giant 

sometimes  has  and  lost  (for  a  time)  the  use  of  his  hand;  where- 
fore he  withdrew,  and  left  them  (as  before),  to 
consider  what  to  do.  Then  did  the  prisoners  consult  be- 
tween themselves,  whether  'twas  best  to  take  his  counsel  or 
no;  and  thus  they  began  to  discourse: 


118  THE   PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

CHR.     Brother,  said  Christian,  what  shall  we  do?     The 
life  that  we  now  live  is  miserable :  for  my  part 

Christian 

crushed.  I  know  not  whether  is  best,  to  live  thus,   or 

to    die    out    of    hand.      "My    soul    choose th 

Job  mi.  15. 

strangling  rather  than  life,  and  the  grave  is 
more  easy  for  me  than  this  dungeon:  Shall  we  be  ruled  by 
the  Giant? 

HOPE.  Indeed  our  present  condition  is  dreadful,  and 
death  would  be  far  more  welcome  to  me  than  thus  forever 
to  abide :  But  yet  let  us  consider,  the  Lord  of  the  country  to 
which  we  are  going  hath  said,  Thou  shalt  do  no  murder,  no, 
not  to  another  man's  person;  much  more  then  are  we  for- 
bidden to  take  his  counsel  to  kill  ourselves.  Besides,  he  that 
kills  another,  can  but  commit  murder  upon  his  body;  but  for 
one  to  kill  himself,  is  to  kill  body  and  soul  at  once.  And 

moreover,  my  brother,  thou  talkest  of  ease  in 
"mfortshim.  the  &*™'>  but  hast  thou  forgotten  the  hell, 

whither  for  certain  the  murderers  go?  for,  "no 
murderer  hath  eternal  life,"  etc.  And,  let  us  consider,  again, 
that  all  the  law  is  not  in  the  hand  of  Giant  Despair:  Others, 
so  far  as  I  can  understand,  have  been  taken  by  him  as  well 
as  we;  and  yet  have  escaped  out  of  his  hand:  Who  knows, 
but  that  God  that  made  the  world,  may  cause  that  Giant 
Despair  may  die;  or  that  at  some  time  or  other  he  may  for- 
get to  lock  us  in;  or  but  he  may  in  a  short  time  have  another 
of  his  fits  before  us,  and  may  lose  the  use  of  his  limbs;  and 
if  ever  that  should  come  to  pass  again,  for  my  part  I  am 
resolved  to  pluck  up  .the  heart  of  a  man,  and  to  try  my 
utmost  to  get  from  under  his  hand.  I  was  a  fool  that  I  did 
not  try  to  do  it  before;  but  however,  my  brother,  let's  be 
patient,  and  endure  a  while:  the  time  may  come  that  may 
give  us  a  happy  release;  but  let  us  not  be  our  own  murderers. 
With  these  words  Hopeful  at  present  did  moderate  the  mind 
of  his  brother;  so  they  continued  together  (in  the  dark)  that 
day,  in  their  sad  and  doleful  condition. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  119 

Well,  towards  evening  the  giant  goes  down  into  the  dun- 
geon again,  to  see  if  his  prisoners  had  taken  his  counsel;  but 
when  he  came  there,  he  found  them  alive,  and  truly,  alive 
was  all;  for  now,  what  for  want  of  bread  and  water,  and  by 
reason  of  the  wounds  they  received  when  he  beat  them,  they 
could  do  little  but  breathe:  But,  I  say,  he  found  them  alive; 
at  which  he  fell  into  a  grievous  rage,  and  told  them,  that  see- 
ing they  had  disobeyed  his  counsel,  it  should  be  worse  with 
them  than  if  they  had  never  been  born. 

At  this  they  trembled  greatly,  and  I  think  that  Christian 

fell  into  a  swoon;  but  coming  a  little  to  himself  again,  they 

renewed  their  discourse  about  the  giant's  coun- 

de£ct'edn  Stil1        sel»  and  whether  yet  they  had  best  to  take  it 

or  no.     Now  Christian  again  seemed  to  be  for 

doing  it,  but  Hopeful  made  his  second  reply  as  followeth: 

HOPE.  My  brother,  said  he,  rememberest  thou  not  how 
valiant  thou  hast  been  heretofore?  Apollyon  could  not 

'    -,'  crush  thee,  nor  could  all  that  thou  didst  hear, 

Hopejul 

comforts  kim         Or  see,  or  feel  in  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of 

again,  by  calling  , 

former  things  to     Death;  what  hardship,  terror,  and  amazement 

remembrance.  ,  fl  ,          ,  .  ,  ,  . 

hast  thou  already  gone  through,  and  art  thou 
now  nothing  but  fear  ?  Thou  seest  that  I  am  in  the  dungeon 
with  thee,  a  far  weaker  man  by  nature  than  thou  art:  Also 
this  giant  has  wounded  me  as  well  as  thee,  and  hath  also  cut 
off  the  bread  and  water  from  my  mouth;  and  with  thee  I 
mourn  without  the  light.  But  let's  exercise  a  little  more 
patience.  Remember  how  thou  playedst  the  man  at  Vanity 
Fair,  and  wast  neither  afraid  of  the  chain  nor  cage;  nor  yet 
of  bloody  death :  wherefore  let  us  (at  least  to  avoid  the  shame, 
that  becomes  not  a  Christian  to  be  found  in)  bear  up  with 
patience  as  well  as  we  can. 

Now  night  being  come  again,  and  the  Giant  and  his  wife 
being  in  bed,  she  asked  him  concerning  the  prisoners,  and  if 
they  had  taken  his  counsel.  To  which  he  replied,  They  are 
sturdy  rogues,  they  choose  rather  to  bear  all  hardship,  than 


120  THE   PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

to  make  away  themselves.  Then  said  she,  Take  them  into 
the  castle-yard  to-morrow,  and  show  them  the  bones  and 
skulls  of  those  that  thou  hast  already  despatched,  and  make 
them  believe,  ere  a  week  comes  to  an  end,  thou  also  wilt  tear 
them  in  pieces,  as  thou  hast  done  their  fellows  before  them. 
So  when  the  morning  was  come,  the  Giant  goes  to  them 
again,  and  takes  them  into  the  castle-yard,  and  shows  them 


On  ^aturdai  the   as  ms  w^e  ^ad  bidden  him.     These,  said  he, 
Giant  threatened     were  pilgrims  as  you  are,  once,  and  thev  tres- 

that  shortly  he  . 

would  pull  them  passed  in  my  grounds,  as  you  have  done;  and 
when  I  thought  fit,  I  tore  them  in  pieces,  and 
so  within  ten  days  I  will  do  you.  Go,  get  you  down  to  your 
den  again;  and  with  that  he  beat  them  all  the  way  thither. 
They  lay  therefore  all  day  on  Saturday  in  lamentable  case, 
as  before.  Now  when  night  was  come,  and  when  Mrs.  Diffi- 
dence and  her  husband  the  Giant  were  got  to  bed,  they  began 
to  renew  their  discourse  of  their  prisoners;  and  withal,  the 
old  Giant  wondered,  that  he  could  neither  by  his  blows,  nor 
counsel,  bring  them  to  an  end.  And  with  that  his  wife  re- 
plied, I  fear,  said  she,  that  they  live  in  hope  that  some  will 
come  to  relieve  them,  or  that  they  have  pick-locks  about 
them,  by  the  means  of  which  they  hope  to  escape.  And, 
sayest  thou  so,  my  dear?  said  the  Giant,  I  will  therefore 
search  them  in  the  morning. 

Well,  on  Saturday  about  midnight  they  began  to  pray, 
and  continued  in  prayer  till  almost  break  of  day. 

Now  a  little  before  it  was  day,  good  Christian,  as  one  half 
amazed,  brake  out  in  this  passionate  speech:  What  a  fool, 
A  ^  in  quoth  he,  am  I  thus  to  lie  in  a  stinking  dungeon, 

Christians  when  I  may  as  well  walk  at  liberty  !  I  have  a 

bosom,  called  .  . 

Promise,  key  in  my  bosom  called  Promise,  that  will,  I 

opens  any  lock  ,     ,  ,      ,       .        -^       ,     . 

in  Doubting          am    persuaded,    open    any    lock    in    Doubting 
Castle.     Then  said  Hopeful,  That's  good  news; 
good  brother,  pluck  it  out  of  thy  bosom  and  try. 

Then  Christian  pulled  it  out  of  his  bosom,  and  began  to 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  121 

try  at  the  dungeon  door,  whose  bolt  (as  he  turned  the  key) 
gave  back,  and  the  door  flew  open  with  ease,  and  Christian 
and  Hopeful  both  came  out.  Then  he  went  to  the  outward 
door  that  leads  into  the  castle-yard,  and  with  his  key  opened 
that  door  also.  After  he  went  to  the  ircn  gate,  for  that  must 
be  opened  too,  but  that  lock  went  damnable  hard,  yet  the 
key  did  open  it;  then  they  thrust  open  the  gate  to  make  their 
escape  with  speed,  but  that  gate,  as  it  opened,  made  such  a 
creaking,  that  it  wraked  Giant  Despair,  who  hastily  rising  to 
pursue  his  prisoners,  felt  his  limbs  to  fail,  for  his  fits  took 
him  again,  so  that  he  could  by  no  means  go  after  them. 
Then  they  went  on,  and  came  to  the  King's  highway,  and  so 
were  safe,  because  they  were  out  of  his  jurisdiction. 

Now  when  they  were  gone  over  the  stile,  they  began  to 

contrive  with  themselves  what  they  should  do  at  that  stile, 

to  prevent  those  that  should  come  after  from 

A  pillar  erected  ... 

bu  Christian  and  falling  into  the  hands  of  Giant  Despair.  So 
they  consented  to  erect  there  a  pillar,  and  to 
engrave  upon  the  side  thereof  this  sentence,  "Over  this  stile 
is  the  way  to  Doubting  Castle,  which  is  kept  by  Giant  De- 
spair, who  despiseth  the  King  of  the  Celestial  Country,  and 
seeks  to  destroy  his  holy  pilgrims."  Many  therefore  that 
followed  after,  read  what  was  written,  and  escaped  the  dan- 
ger. This  done,  they  sang  as  follows — 

Out  of  the  way  we  went,  and  then  we  found 

What  'twas  to  tread  upon  forbidden  ground; 

And  let  them  that  come  after  have  a  care, 

Lest  heedlessness  makes  them,  as  we,  to  fare: 

Lest  they,  for  trespassing,  his  prisoners  are, 

Whose  Castle's  Doubting,  and  whose  name's  Despair. 

They  went  then,  till  they  came  to  the  Delectable  Moun- 
tains,1 which  mountains  belong  to  the  Lord  of  that  hill,  of 

1  Mountains  Delectable  they  now  ascend, 
Where  Shepherds  be,  which  to  them  do  commend 
Alluring  things,  and  things  that  cautious  are, 
Pilgrims  are  steady  kept  by  faith  and  fear. 


122  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

which  we  have  spoken  before;  so  they  went  up  to  the  moun- 
tains, to  behold  the  gardens  and  orchards, 
tne  vineyards,  and  fountains  of  water;  where 
also  they  drank,  and  washed  themselves,  and 

did  freely  eat  of  the  vineyards.  Now  there  were  on  the 
tops  of  these  mountains  Shepherds  feeding  their 

refreshed  in  the  flocks,  and  they  stood  by  the  highway-side. 
The  pilgrims  therefore  went  to  them,  and  lean- 


'lu&  uPon  their  staves  (as  is  common  with 
weary  pilgrims,  when  they  stand  to  talk  with 
any  by  the  way)  they  asked,  Whose  delectable  Mountains 
are  these  ?  and  whose  be  the  sheep  that  feed  upon  them  ? 

SHEP.     These    mountains    are    Irnmanuers 

John  #.11. 

Land,  and  they  are  within  sight  of  his  city;  and 
the  sheep  also  are  his,  and  he  laid  down  his  life  for  them. 
CHR.     Is  this  the  way  to  the  Celestial  City  ? 
SHEP.     You  are  just  in  your  way. 
CHR.     How  far  is  it  thither? 

SHEP.     Too  far  for  any,  but  those  that  shall  get  thither 
indeed. 

CHR.     Is  the  way  safe,  or  dangerous  ? 

.  SHEP.     Safe  for  those  for  whom  it  is  to  be 

safe,  but  transgressors  shall  fall  therein. 
CHR.     Is  there  in  this  place  any  relief  for  pilgrims  that  are 
weary  and  faint  in  the  way? 

SHEP.     The  Lord  of  these  mountains  hath 

Heb.  xni.  1,  2. 

given  us  a  charge  not  to  be  forgetful  to  enter- 

tain strangers;  therefore  the  good  of  the  place  is  before  you. 

I  saw  also  in  my  dream,  that  when  the  Shepherds  per- 

ceived that  they  were  wayfaring  men,  they  also  put  questions 

to  them  (to  which  they  made  answer  as  in 
™komePthem?  other  P^ces),  as,  Whence  came  you?  and, 

How  got  you  into  the  way  ?  and,  By  .  what 
means  have  you  so  persevered  therein?  For  but  few  of 
them  that  begin  to  come  hither,  do  show  their  face  on 
these  mountains.  But  when  the  Shepherds  heard  their 


THE   PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  123 

answers,  being  pleased  therewith,  they  looked  very  lovingly 
upon  them,  and  said,  Welcome  to  the  Delectable  Mountains ! 
The  Shepherds,  I  say,  whose  names  were  Knowledge,  Ex- 
perience, Watchful,  and  Sincere,  took  them    by  the    hand, 

and  had  them  to  their  tents,  and  made  them 
ZesTepherd{  partake  of  that  which  was  ready  at  present. 

They  said  moreover,  We  would  that  you  should 
stay  here  a  while,  to  be  acquainted  with  us,  and  yet  more  to 
solace  yourselves  with  the  good  of  these  Delectable  Moun- 
tains. They  then  told  them  that  they  were  content  to  stay; 
and  so  they  went  to  their  rest  that  night,  because  it  wras  very 
late. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  in  the  morning,  the  Shep- 
herds called  up  Christian  and  Hopeful  to  walk  with  them 

upon  the  mountains:  So  they  went  forth  with 
Jk^n  wonders,  them,  and  walked  a  while,  having  a  pleasant 

prospect  on  every  side.  Then  said  the  Shep- 
herds one  to  another,  Shall  we  show  these  pilgrims  some 
wonders?  So  when  they  had  concluded  to  do  it,  they  had 

them  first  to  the  top  of  a  hill  called  Error, 
ofhEn™ntain  which  was  very  steep  on  the  farthest  side,  and 

bid  them  look  down  to  the  bottom.  So  Chris- 
tian and  Hopeful  looked  down,  and  saw  at  the  bottom  several 
men  dashed  all  to  pieces  by  a  fall  that  they  had  from  the 
top.  Then  said  Christian,  What  meaneth  this  ?  The  Shep- 
herds answered,  Have  you  not  heard  of  them  that  were  made 
to  err,  by  hearkening  to  Hymenseus  and  Philetus,  as  concern- 
..  ing  the  faith  of  the  resurrection  of  the  body? 

They  answered,  Yes.  Then  said  the  Shep- 
herds, Those  that  you  see  lie  dashed  in  pieces  at  the  bottom 
of  this  mountain  are  they;  and  they  have  continued  to  this 
day  unburied  (as  you  see)  for  an  example  to  others  to  take 
heed  how  they  clamber  too  high,  or  how  they  come  too  near 
the  brink  of  this  mountain. 

Then  I  saw  that  they  had  them  to  the  top  of  another 
mountain,  and  the  name  of  that  is  Caution,  and  bid  them 


124  THE   PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

look  afar  off;  which  when  they  did,  they  perceived,  as  they 
thought,   several   men   walking   up   and   down 

Mount  Caution. 

among  the  tombs  that  were  there.  And  they 
perceived  that  the  men  were  blind,  because  they  stumbled 
sometimes  upon  the  tombs,  and  because  they  could  not  get 
out  from  among  them.  Then  said  Christian,  What  means 
this? 

The  Shepherds  then  answered,  Did  you  not  see  a  little 
below  these  mountains  a  stile  that  led  into  a  meadow  on  the 
left  hand  of  this  way  ?  They  answered,  Yes.  Then  said  the 
Shepherds,  From  that  stile  there  goes  a  path  that  leads  di- 
rectly to  Doubting  Castle,  which  is  kept  by  Giant  Despair; 
and  these  men  (pointing  to  them  among  the  tombs)  came 
once  on  pilgrimage,  as  you  do  now,  even  till  they  came  to 
that  same  stile.  And  because  the  right  way  was  rough  in 
that  place,  they  chose  to  go  out  of  it  into  that  meadow,  and 
there  were  taken  by  Giant  Despair,  and  cast  into  Doubting 
Castle;  where,  after  they  had  a  while  been  kept  in  the  dun- 
geon, he  at  last  did  put  out  their  eyes,  and  led  them  among 
those  tombs,  where  he  has  left  them  to  wander  to  this  very 
day;  that  the  saying  of  the  wise  man  might  be 

Prov.  xxi.  16. 

fulfilled,  "He  that  wandereth  out  of  the  way 
of  understanding  shall  remain  in  the  congregation  of  the 
dead."  Then  Christian  and  Hopeful  looked  upon  one  an- 
other, with  tears  gushing  out,  but  yet  said  nothing  to  the 
Shepherds. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  the  Shepherds  had  them  to 
another  place,  in  a  bottom,  where  was  a  door  in  the  side  of  a 
hill;  and  they  opened  the  door,  and  bid  them  look  in.  They 
looked  in  therefore,  and  saw  that  within  it  was  very  dark, 
and  smoky;  they  also  thought  that  they  heard  there  a  rum- 
bling noise  as  of  fire,  and  a  cry  of  some  tormented,  and  that 
they  smelt  the  scent  of  brimstone.  Then  said  Christian, 

What  means  this?     The  Shepherds  told  them, 

A  byway  to  hell.  . 

This  is  a  byway  to  hell,  a  way  that  hypo- 
crites go  in  at;  namely,  such  as  sell  their  birthright,  with 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  125 

Esau;  such  as  sell  their  Master,  with  Judas;  such  as  blas- 
pheme the  gospel,  with  Alexander;  and  that  lie  and  dissem- 
ble, with  Ananias  and  Sappbira  his  wife. 

HOPE.  Then  said  Hopeful  to  the  Shepherds,  I  perceive 
that  these  had  on  them,  even  every  one,  a  show  of  Pilgrim- 
age, as  we  have  now;  had  they  not? 

SHEP.     Yes,  and  held  it  a  long  time  too. 

HOPE.  How  far  might  they  go  on  pilgrimage  in  their 
day,  since  they  notwithstanding  were  thus  miserably  cast 
away  ? 

SHEP.  Some  farther,  and  some  not  so  far  as  these  moun- 
tains. 

Then  said  the  pilgrims  one  to  another,  We  had  need  to 
cry  to  the  Strong  for  strength. 

SHEP.  Ay,  and  you  will  have  need  to  use  it  when  you 
have  it  too. 

By  this  time  the  pilgrims  had  a  desire  to  go  forward, 
and  the  Shepherds  a  desire  they  should;  so  they  walked  to- 
gether towards  the  end  of  the  mountains.  Then  said  the 
Shepherds  one  to  another,  Let  us  here  show  to  the  pilgrims 
the  gates  of  the  Celestial  City,  if  they  have  skill 

The  Shepherds'  i       i       ii  i  i  mi 

perspective-glass,  to  look  through  our  perspective-glass.  I  he 
The  inn  clear,  pilgrims  then  lovingly  accepted  the  motion :  So 

they  had  them  to  the  top  of  a  high  hill,  called 
Clear,  and  gave  them  their  glass  to  look. 

Then  they  essayed  to  look,  but  the  remembrance  of  that 
last  thing  that  the  Shepherds  had  showed  them,  made  their 

hands  shake,  by  means  of  which  impediment 
lni{™fear°f  they  could  not  look  steadily  through  the  glass; 

yet  they  thought  they  saw  something  like  the 
gate,  and  also  some  of  the  glory  of  the  place.  Then  they 
went  away  and  sang  this  song — 

Thus  by  the  Shepherds  secrets  are  reveal'd, 
Which  from  all  other  men  are  kept  conceal'd: 
Come  to  the  Shepherds  then,  if  you  would  see 
Things  deep,  things  hid,  and  that  mysterious  be. 


126  THE  PILGRIM  S  PROGRESS 

When  they  were  about  to  depart,  one  of  the  Shepherds 

gave  them  a  note  of  the  way.     Another  of  them  bid  them 

beware  of  the  Flatterer.     The  third  bid  them 

iatdion™        take  need  that  they  sleep  not  up°n  tne  En- 

chanted  Ground.  And  the  fourth  bid  them 
Godspeed.  So  I  awoke  from  my  dream. 

And  I  slept,  and  dreamed  again,  and  saw  the  same  two 
pilgrims  going  down  the  mountains  along  the  highway 

towards  the  city.  Now,  a  little  below  these 
Concn9™utof  mountains,  on  the  left  hand,  lieth  the  country 
Ignorance6  °^  Conceit;  from  which  country  there  comes 

into  the  way  in  which  the  pilgrims  walked  a 
little  crooked  lane.  Here  therefore  they  met  with  a  very 
brisk  lad,  that  came  out  of  that  country,  and  his  name  was 
Ignorance.  So  Christian  asked  him  from  what  parts  he 
came,  and  whither  he  was  going. 

IGNOR.     Sir,  I  was  born  in  the  country  that 

Christian  and          .«     ,        «     i  i«     i  iii»i          i  IT 

Ignorance  have      lieth  off  there,  a  little  on  the  left  hand;  and  I 

some  talk.  .  ,,       /^   i      ,  •    ••  /-,.. 

am  going  to  the  Celestial  City. 

CHR.  But  how  do  you  think  to  get  in  at  the  gate,  for  you 
may  find  some  difficulty  there  ? 

IGNOR.     As  other  good  people  do,  said  he. 
CHR.     But  what  have  you  to  show  at  that  gate,  that  may 
cause  that  the  gate  should  be  opened  to  you  ? 

IGNOR.     I  know  my  Lord's  will,  and  I  have 

keen  a  £OO(*  ^ver»  *  Pav  everv  man  h*8  own;  I 
pray,  fast,  pay  tithes,  and  give  alms,  and  have 
left  my  country  for  whither  I  am  going. 

CHR.  But  thou  earnest  not  in  at  the  Wicket-Gate  that  is 
at  the  head  of  this  way;  thou  earnest  in  hither  through  that 
same  crooked  lane,  and  therefore  I  fear,  however  thou  mayest 
think  of  thyself,  when  the  reckoning  day  shall  come,  thou 
wilt  have  laid  to  thy  charge  that  thou  art  a  thief  and  a  rob- 
ber, instead  of  getting  admittance  into  the  city. 

IGNOR.     Gentlemen,  ye  be  utter  strangers  to  me;  I  know 


THE   PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  127 

you  not:  be  content  to  follow  the  religion  of  your  country, 
and  I  will  follow  the  religion  of  mine.  I  hope 

He  saith  to  every 

one  that  he  is  a  all  will  be  well.  And  as  for  the  gate  that  you 
talk  of,  all  the  world  knows  that  that  is  a  great 

way  off  of  our  country.     I  cannot  think  that  any  man  in  all 

our  parts  doth  so  much  as  know  the  way  to  it;  nor  need  they 

matter  whether  they  do  or  no,  since  we  have,  as  you  see,  a 

fine  pleasant  green  lane,  that  comes  down  from  our  country 

the  next  way  into  it. 

When  Christian  saw  that  the  man  was  wise  in  his  own 

conceit,  he  said  to  Hopeful  whisperingly,  There  is  more  hopes 
of  a  fool  than  of  him.  And  said  moreover, 
"When  he  that  is  a  fool  walketh  by  the  way, 
his  wisdom  faileth  him,  and  he  saith  to  every 

one  that  he  is  a  fool."  What,  shall  we  talk  further  with 
him?  or  outgo  him  at  present?  and  so  leave 

"Oa/o°oiarrv  U  him  to  think  °f  what  he  hath  heard  already; 
and  then  stop  again  for  him  afterwards,  and 

see  if  by  degrees  we  can  do  any  good  of  him  ?     Then  said 

Hopeful — 

Let  Ignorance  a  little  while  now  muse 

On  what  is  said,  and  let  him  not  refuse 

Good  counsel  to  embrace,  lest  he  remain 

Still  ignorant  of  what's  the  chiefest  gain. 

God  saith,  Those  that  no  understanding  have, 

(Although  he  made  them)  them  he  will  not  save. 

HOPE.  He  further  added,  It  is  not  good,  I  think,  to  say 
all  to  him  at  once;  let  us  pass  him  by,  if  you  will,  and  talk 
to  him  anon,  even  as  he  is  able  to  bear  it. 

So  they  both  went  on,  and  Ignorance  he  came  after.     Now 

when  they  had  passed  him  a  little  way,  they  entered  into  a 

very  dark  lane,  where  they  met  a  man  whom 

¥nv'  T^45'        seven  devils  had  bound  with  seven  strong  cords, 

and  were  carrying  of  him  back  to  the  door  that 

they  saw  on  the  side  of  the  hill.     Now  good  Christian  began 


128  THE   PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

to  tremble,  and  so  did  Hopeful  his  companion:  Yet  as  the 

devils  led  away  the  man,  Christian  looked  to  see  if  he  knew 

him,  and  he  thought  it  might  be  one  Turn-away  that  dwelt 

in  the  town  of  Apostasy.     But  he  did  hot  per- 

The  destruction  .  . 

of  one  fectly  see  his  race,  for  he  did  hang  his  head  like 

Turn-away.  *.\  •   t    *i     4-     '       *          J      T>    *    u    • 

a  thier  that  is  round:  But  being  gone  past, 
Hopeful  looked  after  him,  and  espied  on  his  back  a  paper 
with  this  inscription,  "  Wan  ton  professor,  and  damnable 
apostate."  Then  said  Christian  to  his  fellow, 
Now  I  call  to  remembrance  that  which  was  told 
<LiSfaith.  me  °f  a  thing  that  happened  to  a  good  man 

hereabout.  The  name  of  the  man  was  Little- 
faith,  but  a  good  man,  and  he  dwelt  in  the  town  of  Sincere. 
The  thing  was  this:  at  the  entering  in  of  this  passage  there 
conies  down  from  Broadway  Gate  a  lane  called 
Dl°£an'sGLane.  Deadman's  Lane;  so  called,  because  of  the  mur- 
ders that  are  commonly  done  there.  And  this 
Little-faith  going  on  pilgrimage,  as  we  do  now,  chanced  to 
sit  down  there  and  slept.  Now  there  happened,  at  that  time, 
to  come  down  that  lane  from  Broadway  Gate,  three  sturdy 
rogues,  and  their  names  were  Faint-heart,  Mistrust,  and 
Guilt  (three  brothers),  and  they  espying  Little-faith  where  he 
was,  came  galloping  up  with  speed:  Now  the  good  man  was 
just  awaked  from  his  sleep,  and  was  getting  up  to  go  on  his 
journey.  So  they  came  all  up  to  him,  and  with  threatening 
language  bid  him  stand.  At  this,  Little-faith  looked  as  white 
as  a  clout,  and  had  neither  power  to  fight  nor 
robbed^  fly-  Then  said  Faint-heart,  Deliver  thy  purse; 

Faint-heart,          j^f.  ne  makmg  no  haste  to  do  it  (for  he  was 

Mistrust  ana 

Guilt.  loath  to  lose  his  money),  Mistrust  ran  up  to 

him,  and  thrusting  his  hand  into  his  pocket, 

hiseysiiver?and       pulled  out  thence  a  bag  of  silver.    Then  he  cried 

knocked  him  ^  Thieyes>  thieveg  J      With  that>  Gui]t>  with  a 

great  club  that  was  in  his  hand,  struck  Little- 
faith  on  the  head,  and  with  that  blow  felled  him  flat  to  the 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  129 

ground,  where  he  lay  bleeding  as  one  that  would  bleed  to 
death.  All  this  while  the  thieves  stood  by :  But  at  last,  they 
hearing  that  some  were  upon  the  road,  and  fearing  lest  it 
should  be  one  Great-grace  that  dwells  in  the  city  of  Good- 
confidence,  they  betook  themselves  to  their  heels,  and  left 
this  good  man  to  shift  for  himself.  Now  after  a  while,  Lit- 
tle-faith came  to  himself,  and  getting  up,  made  shift  to 
scramble  on  his  way.  This  was  the  story. 

HOPE.     But  did  they  take  from  him  all  that  ever  he  had  ? 
CHR.     No:  The  place  where  his  jewels  were,  they  never 
ransacked,  so  those  he  kept  still;  but,  as  I  was  told,  the  good 
Little-faith  man  was  much  afflicted  for  his  loss,  for  the 

toT*  hlS  ^Si      thieves  got  most  of  his  spending  money.     That 
which  they  got  not  (as  I  said)  were  jewels;  also 
he  had  a  little  odd  money  left,  but  scarce  enough 
to  bring  him  to  his  journey's  end.     Nay,  if  I  was  not  misin- 
formed, he  was  forced  to  beg  as  he  went,  to  keep  himself 
alive,   for  his  jewels   he  might  not  sell;    but 
forced  to  beg  to      beg,    and    do    what    he    could,    he    went    (as 

his  journey's  end.  ,         .   ,  ,  111,1 

we  say)  with  many  a  hungry  belly  the  most 
part  of  the  rest  of  the  way. 

HOPE.  But  is  it  not  a  wonder  they  got  not  from  him  his 
certificate,  by  which  he  was  to  receive  his  admittance  at  the 
Celestial  Gate  ? 

CHR.     'Tis  a  wonder,  but  they  got  not  that:  though  they 
missed  it  not  through  any  good  cunning  of  his; 
belt  'things  by  *his   f°r  he,  being  dismayed  with  their  coming  upon 
«TtS!T*U.'         him'  had  neither  power  nor  skill  to  hide  any- 
thing; so  it  was  more  by  good  providence  than 
by  his  endeavor,  that  they  missed  of  that  good  thing. 

HOPE.  But  it  must  needs  be  a  comfort  to  him  that  they 
got  not  this  jewel  from  him. 

CHR.  It  might  have  been  good  comfort  to  him,  had  he 
used  it  as  he  should;  but  they  that  told  me  the  story  said, 
That  he  made  but  little  use  of  it  all  the  rest  of  the  way,  and 


130  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

that  because  of  the  dismay  that  he  had  in  their  taking  away 
..  his  money.     Indeed,  he  forgot  it  a  great  part 

of  the  rest  of  his  journey;  and  besides,  when 
at  any  time  it  came  into  his  mind,  and  he  began  to  be  com- 
forted therewith,  then  would  fresh  thoughts  of  his  loss  come 
again  upon  him,  and  those  thoughts  would  swallow  up  all. 

HOPE.     Alas,  poor  man !  this  could  not  but 

bybot^  be  a  Sreat  Srief  unto  him- 

CHR.  Grief!  Ay,  a  grief  indeed.  Would 
it  not  have  been  so  to  any  of  us,  had  we  been  used  as  he, 
to  be  robbed  and  wounded  too,  and  that  in  a  strange 
place,  as  he  was  ?  'Tis  a  wonder  he  did  not  die  with  grief, 
poor  heart!  I  was  told  that  he  scattered  almost  all  the 
rest  of  the  way  with  nothing  but  doleful  and  bitter  com- 
plaints; telling  also  to  all  that  overtook  him,  or  that  he 
overtook  in  the  way  as  he  went,  where  he  was  robbed,  and 
how;  who  they  were  that  did  it,  and  what  he  lost;  how  he 
was  wounded,  and  that  he  hardly  escaped  with  life. 

HOPE.  But  'tis  a  wonder  that  his  necessity  did  not  put 
him  upon  selling  or  pawning  some  of  his  jewels,  that  he  might 
have  wherewith  to  relieve  himself  in  his  journey. 

CHR.  Thou  talkest  like  one  upon  whose  head  is  the  shell 
to  this  very  day.  For  what  should  he  pawn  them?  or  to 
r,  . ..  whom  should  he  sell  them  ?  In  all  that  country 

Lnristian 

snubbeth  his          where  he  was  robbed,  his  jewels  were  not  ac- 

jeuow  for 

unadvised  counted  of,  nor  did  he  want  that  relief  which 

could  from  thence  be  administered  to  him.  Be- 
sides, had  his  jewels  been  missing  at  the  gate  of  the  Celestial 
City,  he  had  (and  that  he  knew  well  enough)  been  excluded 
from  an  inheritance  there;  and  that  would  have  been  worse 
to  him  than  the  appearance  and  villainy  of  ten  thousand 
thieves. 

HOPE.     Why  art  thou  so  tart,  my  brother  ?     Esau  sold  his 
birthright,  and  that  for  a  mess  of  pottage,  and 
that  birthright  was  his  greatest  jewel;  and  if 
he,  why  might  not  Little-faith  do  so  too  ? 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  131 

CHR.     Esau  did  sell  his  birthright  indeed,  and  so  do  many 

besides,  and  by  so  doing,  exclude  themselves  from  the  chief 

blessing,  as  also  that  caitiff  did.     But  you  must 

A  discourse  .  .  *• 

about  Emu  and     put  a  difference  betwixt  Esau  and  Little-faith, 

Little-faith.  ,      ,        ,  .           , 

and  also  betwixt  their  estates.     Esau  s  birth- 
right was  typical,  but  Little-faith's  jewels  were  not  so.    Esau's 
belly  was  his  god,  but  Little-faith's  belly  was  not  so.     Esau's 
wrant  lay  in  his  fleshly  appetite;  Little-faith's  did  not  so.     Be- 
sides, Esau  could  see  no  further  than  to  the 

Esau  was  ruled 

by  his  lusts.          fulfilling  of  his  lusts:  "For  I  am  at  the  point  to 

Gen.  xxv.  32.  ,.     ,,         .  .    ,  .        .  .        ...         ; .         . 

die,  said  he,  and  what  good  will  this  birth- 
right do  me  ?  "  But  Little-faith,  though  it  was  his  lot  to  have 
but  a  little  faith,  was  by  his  little  faith  kept  from  such  ex- 
travagances, and  made  to  see  and  prize  his  jewels  more  than 

to  sell  them,  as  Esau  did  his  birthright.  You 
hadUfaiT  read  not  anywhere  that  Esau  had  faith,  no, 

not  so  much  as  a  little;  therefore  no  marvel,  if 
where  the  flesh  only  bears  sway  (as  it  will  in  that  man  where 
no  faith  is  to  resist) ,  if  he  sells  his  birthright,  and  his  soul  and 
all,  and  that  to  the  devil  of  hell;  for  it  is  with  such,  as  it  is 

with  the  ass,  who  in  her  occasions  cannot  be 

Jer.  n.  24. 

turned  away.  When  their  minds  are  set  upon 
their  lusts,  they  will  have  them  whatever  they  cost.  But 
Little-faith  was  of  another  temper,  his  mind  was  on  things 

divine;    his   livelihood   was    upon   things   that 

Little-faith  could 

not  live  upon         were  spiritual,  and  from  above:  Therefore  to 

Esau's  pottage.  ,      ,        .  .    ,          ,  .         „ 

what  end  should  he  that  is  of  such  a  temper 
sell  his  jewels  (had  there  been  any  that  would  have  bought 
them)  to  fill  his  mind  with  empty  things  ?  Will  a  man  give 
a  penny  to  fill  his  belly  with  hay?  or  can  you  persuade  the 

turtle-dove  to  live  upon  carrion,  like  the  crow  ? 
betwe^nThl^rtle-  Though  faithless  ones  can,  for  carnal  lusts, 
do^and  the  pawil>  Or  mortgage,  or  sell  what  they  have,  and 

themselves  outright  to  boot;  yet  they  that  have 
faith,  saving  faith,  though  but  a  little  of  it,  cannot  do  so. 
Here,  therefore,  my  brother,  is  thy  mistake. 


132  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

HOPE.  I  acknowledge  it;  but  yet  your  severe  reflection 
had  almost  made  me  angry. 

CHR.  Why,  I  did  but  compare  thee  to  some  of  the  birds 
that  are  of  the  brisker  sort,  who  will  run  to  and  fro  in  un- 
trodden paths  with  the  shell  upon  their  heads;  but  pass  by 
that,  and  consider  the  matter  under  debate,  and  all  shall  be 
well  betwixt  thee  and  me. 

HOPE.  But,  Christian,  these  three  fellows,  I  am  per- 
suaded in  my  heart,  are  but  a  company  of  cowards;  would 
they  have  run  else.,  think  you,  as  they  did,  at 
Swaggers  the  n°ise  °f  one  that  was  coming  on  the  road  ? 

Why  did  not  Little-faith  pluck  up  a  greater 
heart?  He  might,  methinks,  have  stood  one  brush  with 
them,  and  have  yielded  when  there  had  been  no  remedy. 

CHR.  That  they  are  cowards,  many  have  said,  but  few 
have  found  it  so  in  the  time  of  trial.  As  for  a  great  heart, 
No  great  heart  Little-faith  had  none;  and  I  perceive  by  thee, 
far  God  where  mv  brother,  hadst  thou  been  the  man  con- 

there  is  but  little 

faith.  cerned,  thou  art  but  for  a  brush,  and  then  to 

We  have  more        yield.     And  verily,  since  this  is  the  height  of 

courage  when  out       ,  ,  .  , .  » 

thanwhen-we  thy  stomach  now  they  are  at  a  distance  from 
us,  should  they  appear  to  thee,  as  they  did  to 

him,  they  might  put  thee  to  second  thoughts. 

But  consider  again,  they  are  but  journeymen  thieves;  they 

serve  under  the  king  of  the  bottomless  pit,  who,  if  need  be, 
will  come  in  to  their  aid  himself,  and  his  voice 
is  as  the  roaring  of  a  lion.  I  myself  have  been 

his^wT  tdh       engaged  as  this  Little-faith  was,  and  I  found  it 

experience  in         a  terrible  thing.     These  three  villains  set  upon 

this  case.  .  . 

me,  and  I  beginning  like  a  Christian  to  resist, 
they  gave  but  a  call,  and  in  came  their  master:  I  would,  as 
the  saying  is,  have  given  my  life  for  a  penny;  but  that, 
as  God  would  have  it,  I  was  clothed  with  armor  of  proof. 
Ay,  and  yet  though  I  was  so  harnessed,  I  found  it  hard 
work  to  quk  myself  like  a  man;  no  man  can  tell  what  in 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  133 

that  combat  attends  us,  but  he  that  hath  been  in  the  battle 
himself. 

HOPE.  Well,  but  they  ran,  you  see,  when  they  did  but 
suppose  that  one  Great-grace  was  in  the  way. 

CHR.     True,  they  have  often  fled,  both  they  and  their 
master,  when  Great-grace  hath  but  appeared;  and  no  mar- 
vel, for  he  is  the  King's  champion.     But  I  trow 
you  will  put  some  difference  between  Little- 

cnQinpion.  v 

faith  and  the  King's  champion.  All  the  King's 
subjects  are  not  his  champions,  nor  can  they,  when  tried,  do 
such  feats  of  war  as  he.  Is  it  meet  to  think  that  a  little  child 
should  handle  Goliath  as  David  did  ?  or  that  there  should 
be  the  strength  of  an  ox  in  a  wren  ?  Some  are  strong,  some 
are  weak;  some  have  great  faith,  some  have  little;  this  man 
was  one  of  the  weak,  and  therefore  he  went  to  the  walls. 

HOPE.     I  would  it  had  been  Great-grace,  for  their  sakes. 

CHR.  If  it  had  been  he,  he  might  have  had  his  hands  full: 
For  I  must  tell  you,  That  though  Great-grace  is  excellent 
good  at  his  weapons,  and  has  and  can,  so  long  as  he  keeps 
them  at  sword's  point,  do  well  enough  with  them;  yet  if  they 
get  within  him,  even  Faint-heart,  Mistrust,  or  the  other,  it 
shall  go  hard  but  they  will  throw  up  his  heels.  And  when  a 
man  is  down,  you  know,  what  can  he  do? 

Whoso  looks  well  upon  Great-grace's  face,  shall  see  those 
scars  and  cuts  there,  that  shall  easily  give  demonstration  of 
what  I  say.  Yea,  once  I  heard  that  he  should  say  (and  that 
when  he  was  in  the  combat),  "We  despaired  even  of  life": 
How  did  these  sturdy  rogues  and  their  fellows  make  David 
groan,  mourn,  and  roar?  Yea,  Heman,  and  Hezekiah  too, 
though  champions  in  their  day,  were  forced  to  bestir  them 
when  by  these  assaulted;  and  yet,  notwithstanding,  they  had 
their  coats  soundly  brushed  by  them.  Peter  upon  a  time 
would  go  try  what  he  could  do;  but,  though  some  do  say  of 
him  that  he  is  the  prince  of  the  apostles,  they  handled  him 
so,  that  they  made  him  at  last  afraid  of  a  sorry  girl. 


134  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

Besides,  their  king  is  at  their  whistle,  he  is  never  out  of 
hearing;  and  if  at  any  time  they  be  put  to  the  worst,  he,  if 

possible,  comes  in  to  help  them:  and  of  him  it 
Leviathan's  is  said,  "The  sword  of  him  that  layeth  at  him 

cannot  hold  the  spear,  the  dart,  nor  the  haber- 
geon: he  esteemeth  iron  as  straw,  and  brass  as  rotten  wood. 
The  arrow  cannot  make  him  fly;  slingstones  are  turned  with 
him  into  stubble,  darts  are  counted  as  stubble:  he  laugheth 
at  the  shaking  of  a  spear."  What  can  a  man  do  in  this  case  ? 
'Tis  true,  if  a  man  could  at  every  turn  have  Job's  horse,  and 
had  skill  and  courage  to  ride  him,  he  might  do  notable  things: 

for  "his  neck  is  clothed  with  thunder,  he  will 
ThelTcdient '  not  be  afraid  as  the  grasshopper,  the  glory  of 
Tob'sho™"  in  his  nostrils  is  terrible,  he  paweth  in  the  valley, 

rejoiceth  in  his  strength,  and  goeth  out  to  meet 
the  armed  men.  He  mocketh  at  fear,  and  is  not  affrighted, 
neither  turneth  back  from  the  sword.  The  quiver  rattleth 
against  him,  the  glittering  spear  and  the  shield.  He  swallow- 
eth  the  ground  with  fierceness  and  rage,  neither  believeth  he 
that  it  is  the  sound  of  the  trumpet.  He  saith  among  the 
trumpets,  Ha,  ha !  and  he  smelleth  the  battle  afar  off,  the 
thundering  of  the  captains,  and  the  shoutings." 

But  for  such  footmen  as  thee  and  I  are,  let  us  never  desire 
to  meet  with  an  enemy,  nor  vaunt  as  if  we  could  do  better, 
when  we  hear  of  others  that  they  have  been  foiled,  nor  be 
tickled  at  the  thoughts  of  our  own  manhood,  for  such  com- 
monly come  by  the  worst  when  tried.  Witness  Peter,  o; 
whom  I  made  mention  before.  He  would  swagger,  Ay,  he 
would:  He  would,  as  his  vain  mind  prompted  him  to  say,  do 
better,  and  stand  more  for  his  Master,  than  all  men;  Bub 
who  so  foiled,  and  run  down  by  these  villains,  as  he  ? 

When  therefore  we  hear  that  such  robberies  are  done  on 
the  King's  highway,  two  things  become  us  to  do:  first  to  gci 
out  harnessed,  and  to  be  sure  to  take  a  shield  with  us;  FOJ 
it  was  for  want  of  that,  that  he  that  laid  so  lustily  at  Levia 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  135 

than  could   not  make  him  yield.     For  indeed,   if  that  be 

wanting,  he   fears  us  not  at  all.     Therefore   he  that   had 

skill,   hath  said,  "Above  all,  take  the  shield 

of  faith,  wherewith  ye  shall  be  able  to  quench 

all  the  fiery  darts  of  the  wicked." 

'Tis  good  also  that  we  desire  of  the  King  a  convoy,  yea 
9  Tis  good  to  have  that  ne  w^  &°  with  us  himself.  This  made 
a  convoy,  David  rejoice  when  in  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow 

Exod.  xxxiii.  is.    of  Death;   and   Moses   was   rather  for   dying 
Ps.  Hi.  5-8.          where  he  stood,  than  to  go  one  step  without  his 
God.     O  my  brother,  if  he  will  but  go  along 
with  us,  what  need  we  be  afraid  of  ten  thou- 
sands that  shall  set  themselves  against  us,  but  without  him, 
"the  proud  helpers  fall  under  the  slain." 

I  for  my  part  have  been  in  the  fray  before  now,  and  though 
(through  the  goodness  of  him  that  is  best)  I  am  as  you  see 
alive;  yet  I  cannot  boast  of  my  manhood.  Glad  shall  I  be, 
if  I  meet  wyith  no  more  such  brunts,  though  I  fear  we  are 
not  got  beyond  all  danger.  However,  since  the  lion  and 
the  bear  have  not  as  yet  devoured  me,  I  hope  God  will  also 
deliver  us  from  the  next  uncircumcised  Philistine.  Then  sang 
Christian — 

Poor  Little-faith  !     Hast  been  among  the  thieves  ? 
Wast  robb'd  ?     Remember  this :  Whoso  believes 
And  gets  more  faith,  shall  then  a  victor  be 
Over  ten  thousand,  else  scarce  over  three. 

So  they  went  on,  and  Ignorance  followed.  They  went 
then  till  they  came  at  a  place  where  they  saw 

wayay  an  a  way  Put  itself  into  their  way.  and  seemed 

withal  to  lie  as  straight  as  the  way  which  they 

should  go:  and  here  they  knew  not  which  of  the  two  to 
take,  for  both  seemed  straight  before  them; 
therefore  here  they  stood  still  to  consider.  And 
as  they  were  thinking  about  the  way,  behold  a 

man  black  of  flesh,  but  covered  with  a  very  light  robe,  came 


136  THE  PILGRIM'S   PROGRESS 

to  them  and  asked  them,  Why  they  stood  there?     They  an- 
swered, They  were  going  to  the  Celestial  City,  but  knew  not 
wrhich  of  these  ways  to  take.     Follow  me,  said  the  rnan,  it  is 
thither  that  I  am  going.     So  they  followed  him 

Christian  and 

his  fellow  in  the  way  that  but  now  came  into  the  road, 

which  by  degrees  turned,  and  turned  them  so 
from  the  City  that  they  desired  to  go  to,  that  in  little  time 
their  faces  were  turned  away  from  it;  yet  they  followed  him. 
But  by  and  by,  before  they  were  aware,  he  led  them  both 

within  the  compass  of  a  net,  in  which  they 
i^ane™.  ***"  were  botn  so  entangled  that  they  knew  not 

what  to  do ;  and  with  that,  the  white  robe  fell 
off  the  black  man's  back;  then  they  saw  where  they  were. 
Wherefore  there  they  lay  crying  some  time,  for  they  could 
not  get  themselves  out. 

CHR.     Then  said  Christian  to  his  fellow,  Now  do  I  see 

myself  in  an  error.  Did  not  the  Shepherds  bid 
the^  conditions,  us  beware  of  the  flatterers?  As  is  the  saying 
Prov  xxix  5  °^  ^ne  wise  man,  so  we  have  found  it  this  day : 

"A  man  that  flattereth  his  neighbor  spreadeth 
a  net  for  his  feet." 

HOPE.  They  also  gave  us  a  note  of  directions  about  the 
way,  for  our  more  sure  finding  thereof;  but  therein  we  have 
also  forgotten  to  read,  and  have  not  kept  ourselves  from  the 
paths  of  the  destroyer.  Here  David  was  wiser  than  we;  for 

saith  he,  "Concerning  the  works  of  men,  by  the 

word  of  thy  lips  I  have  kept  me  from  the  paths 
of  the  destroyer."  Thus  they  lay  bewailing  themselves  in 
the  net.  At  last  they  espied  a  Shining  One  coming  towards 

them,  with  a  whip  of  small  cord  in  his  hand. 

When  he  was  come  to  the  place  where  they 
hi^hanf^ in  were»  he  asked  them  whence  they  came,  and 

what  they  did  there.  They  told  him,  That  they 
were  poor  pilgrims  going  to  Zion,  but  were  led  out  of  their 
way  by  a  black  man,  clothed  in  white,  who  bid  us,  said  they, 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  137 

follow  him;  for  he  was  going  thither  too.     Then  said  he  with 
the  whip,  It  is  Flatterer,  a  false  apostle,  that 

Prov.  xxix.  5. 

Dan.  xi.  32.          hath  transformed  himself  into  an  angel  of  light. 

2  Cor.  xi.  13,  14.     o       ,  ,  ,     .  , 

So  he  rent    the   net,   and    let    the    men   out. 
Then  said  he  to  them,  Follow  me,  that  I  may  set  you  in 
your  way  again;  so  he  led  them  back  to  the  way,  which  they 
had  left  to  follow  the  Flatterer.     Then  he  asked 
examined  and        them  saying,  Where  did  you  lie  the  last  night  ? 
They  said,  With  the  Shepherds  upon  the  Delec- 
table Mountains.     He  asked  them  then,  If  they 
had  not  of  those  Shepherds  a  note  of  direction  for  the  way  ? 
They  answered,  Yes.     But  did  you,  said  he,  when  you  were 
at  a  stand,  pluck  out  and  read  your  note  ?     They  answered, 
No.     He  asked  them,  Why?     They  said  they  forgot.     He 
.  asked  them  moreoyer,  If  the  Shepherds  did  not 

fine  spoken.          bid  them  beware  of  the  Flatterer  ?     They  an- 
swered, Yes;  but  we  did  not  imagine,  said  they, 
that  this  fine-spoken  man  had  been  he. 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  he  commanded  them  to  lie 

down;  which  when  they  did,  he  chastised  them  sore,  to  teach 

them  the  good  way  wherein  they  should  walk; 

whipped  and        and  as  he  chastised  them  he  said,  "As  many  as 

way™  I  love,  I  rebuke  and  chasten;  be  zealous  there- 

fakJTri?'         fore»  and  repent."     This  done,  he  bids  them  go 

^Rev^lii  19  on  their  wav>  and  take  good  heed  to  the  other 

directions  of  the  Shepherds.     So  they  thanked 

him  for  all  his  kindness,  and  went  softly  along  the  right  way, 

singing — 

Come  hither,  you  that  walk  along  the  way; 

See  how  the  pilgrims  fare,  that  go  astray! 

They  catched  are  in  an  entangling  net, 

'Cause  they  good  counsel  lightly  did  forget: 

'Tis  true,  they  rescued  were,  but  yet  you  see 

They're  scourged  to  boot:  Let  this  your  caution  be. 

Now  after  a  while,  they  perceived  afar  off,  one  coming 


138  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

softly  and  alone  all  along  the  highway  to  meet  them.  Then 
said  Christian  to  his  fellow,  Yonder  is  a  man  with  his  back 
towards  Zion,  and  he  is  coming  to  meet  us. 

HOPE.     I  see  him;  let  us  take  heed  to  ourselves  now,  lest 
he  should  prove  a  Flatterer  also.     So  he  drew 
nearer  and  nearer,  and  at  last  came  up  unto 
them.     His  name  was  Atheist,  and  he  asked 
them  whither  they  were  going. 

CHR.     We  are  going  to  the  Mount  Zion. 

Then  Atheist  fell  into  a  very  great  laughter. 
ateth"mks  CHR-    What  is  the  meaning  of  your  laughter? 

ATHEIST.     I  laugh  to  see  what  ignorant  per- 
sons you  are,  to  take  upon  you  so  tedious  a  journey;  and 
yet  are  like  to  have  nothing  but  your  travel  for  your  pains. 
CHR.     Why  man?     Do  you  think  we  shall 
not  be  received?    _ 

ATHEIST.     Received  !     There  is  no  such  place 
as  you  dream  of,  in  all  this  world. 

CHR.     But  there  is  in  the  world  to  come. 
ATHEIST.     When  I  was  at  home  in  mine  own  country,  I 
heard  as  you  now  affirm,  and,  from  that  hear- 
EccieTz  is         mS  went  out  to  see,  and  have  been  seeking  this 
City  this  twenty  years:  But  find  no  more  of  it, 
than  I  did  the  first  day  I  set  out. 

CHR.     We  have  both  heard  and  believe  that  there  is  such 
a  place  to  be  found. 

ATHEIST.  Had  not  I,  when  at  home,  believed,  I  had  not 
come  thus  far  to  seek:  But  finding  none  (and 
yet  I  should,  had  there  been  such  a  place  to  be 
found,  for  I  have  gone  to  seek  it  farther  than 
you),  I  am  going  back  again,  and  will  seek  to 
refresh  myself  with  the  things  that  I  then  cast  away,  for 
hopes  of  that  which  I  now  see  is  not. 

CHR-     Then  said  Christian  to  Hopeful  his 
fellow,  Is  it  true  which  this  man  hath  said  ? 
HOPE.     Take  heed,  he  is  one  of  the  Flatterers;  remem- 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  139 

her  what   it  hath   cost  us   once  already  for  our  hearken- 
ing to  such  kind  of  fellows.     What !  no  Mount  Zion  ?     Did 

Ho  efuVs  we   not   see  fr°m   ^6    Delectable    Mountains 

gracious  answer,     the  gate  of  the  City  ?     Also,  are  we  not  now 
2  Cor.  v.  7.  to  walk  by  faith?     Let  us  go  on,  said  Hopeful, 

A  remembrance        i       ,    ,1  •  ii     ii  i  •  ±_    i 

of  former  lest  the  man  with  the  whip  overtake  us  again. 

ahhsdp7g™nsts     You  should  have  taught  me  that  lesson,  which 

I  will  round  you  in  the  ears  withal:  "Cease,  my 

temptations. 

Prov.  xix.  27.        son    to  hear  the  instruction  that  causeth  to  err 

Heb.  x.  39. 

from  the  words  of  knowledge.  I  say,  my 
brother,  cease  to  hear  him,  and  let  us  believe  to  the  saving  of 
the  soul. 

CHR.  My  brother,  I  did  not  put  the  question  to  thee  for 
that  I  doubted  of  the  truth  of  our  belief  myself,  but  to  prove 

thee,  and  to  fetch  from  thee  a  fruit  of  the  hon- 
honest  heart"  esty  of  thy  heart.  As  for  this  man,  I  know 
i  John  U  21  that  he  is  blinded  by  the  god  of  this  world. 

Let  thee  and  I  go  on,  knowing  that  we  have 
belief  of  the  truth,  and  "no  lie  is  of  the  truth." 

HOPE.  Now  do  I  rejoice  in  hope  of  the  glory  of  God.  So 
they  turned  away  from  the  man;  and  he,  laughing  at  them, 
went  his  way. 

I  saw  then  in  my  dream,  that  they  went  till  they  came 
into  a  certain  country  whose  air  naturally  tended  to  make 

one  drowsy,  if  he  came  a  stranger  into  it.  And 
to  thelSichanted  here  Hopeful  began  to  be  very  dull  and 

heavy  of  sleep;  wherefore  he  said  unto  Chris- 
Hopeful  begins  tian,  I  do  now  begin  to  grow  so  drowsy 

to  be  drowsy. 

that  I  can  scarcely  hold  up  mine  eyes;  let  us 
lie  down  here  and  take  one  nap. 

CHR.  By  no  means,  said  the  other,  lest 
himSawake!epS  sleeping  we  never  awake  more. 

HOPE.  Why,  my  brother?  Sleep  is  sweet 
to  the  laboring  man;  we  may  be  refreshed  if  we  take  a 
nap. 

CHR.     Do  you  not  remember  that  one  of  the  Shepherds 


140  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

bid  us  beware  of  the  Enchanted    Ground?     He  meant  by 
I  Thus       6         that,    that    we    should    beware    of    sleeping; 

Wherefore  let  us  not  sleep,  as  do  others;  but 
let  us  watch,  and  be  sober. 

HOPE.     I  acknowledge  myself  in  a  fault;  and  had  I  been 

here  alone,  I  had,  by  sleeping,  run  the  danger 

He  is  thankful.  , 

of  death.     I  see  it  is  true  that  the  wise  man 
saith,  "Two  are  better  than  one."     Hitherto 

hath  thy  company  been  my  mercy,  "and  thou  shalt  have  a 

good  reward  for  thy  labor." 

CHR.     Now  then,  said  Christian,  to  prevent 

drowsiness  they      drowsiness  in  this  place,  let  us  fall  into  good 


discourse. 

Good  discourse  HOPE.     With  all  my  heart,  said  the  other. 

Preven!s  CHR.     Where  shall  we  begin  ? 

drowsiness. 

HOPE.     Where  God  began  with  us.     But  do 
you  begin,  if  you  please. 

CHR.     I  will  sing  you  first  this  song  — 

The  Dreamers'       When  saints  do  sleepy  grow,  let  them  come  hither, 
And  hear  how  these  two  pilgrims  talk  together: 
Yea,  let  them  learn  of  them,  in  any  wise, 
Thus  to  keep  ope  their  drowsy  slumb'ring  eyes. 
Saints'  fellowship,  if  it  be  managed  well, 
Keeps  them  awake,  and  that  in  spite  of  hell. 

CHR.     Then  Christian  began  and  said,  I  will 
g     ask  you  a  question:  How  came  you  to  think  at 
^rst  °*  doing  what  you  do  now  ? 

HOPE.     Do  you  mean,  How  came  I  at  first 
to  look  after  the  good  of  my  soul  ? 
CHR.     Yes,  that  is  my  meaning. 

HOPE.     I  continued  a  great  while  in  the  delight  of  those 
things  which  were  seen  and  sold  at  our  fair;  things  which,  I 
believe  now,  would  have   (had  I  continued  in  them  still) 
drowned  me  in  perdition  and  destruction. 
CHR.     What  things  were  they? 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  141 

HOPE.     All  the  treasures  and  riches  of  the  world.     Also  I 
Ho  eful's  life        delighted  much  in  rioting,  revelling,  drinking, 
swearing,    lying,    uncleanness,    Sabbath-break- 
ing, and  what  not,  that  tended  to  destroy  the 
soul.     But  I  found  at  last,  by  hearing  and  considering  of 
things  that  are  divine,  which  indeed  I  heard  of  you,  as  also 
of  beloved  Faithful,  that  was  put  to  death  for 

fjf fTa.*1"*'     his  faith  and  £°od  livinS  in  Vanity  Fair,  that 
"the  end  of  these  things  is  death."     And  that 
for  these  things'  sake  the  wrath  of  God  cometh  upon  the 
children  of  disobedience. 

CHR.  And  did  you  presently  fall  under  the  power  of  this 
conviction  ? 

HOPE.     No,  I  was  not  willing  presently  to  know  the  evil 
of  sin,  nor  the  damnation  that  follows  upon  the 

Hopeful  at  first  .     . 

shuts  his  eyes        commission   or  it;   but  endeavored,   when  my 
mind  at  first  began  to  be  shaken  with  the  Word, 
to  shut  mine  eyes  against  the  light  thereof. 

CHR.  But  what  was  the  cause  of  your  carrying  of  it 
thus  to  the  first  workings  of  God's  blessed  Spirit  upon 
you? 

HOPE.     The  causes  were:  1.  I  was  ignorant  that  this  was 
the  work  of  God  upon  me.     I  never  thought  that  by  awak- 
enings for  sin  God  at  first  begins  the  conversion 

of  a  sinner*       2-    Sin  Was  yet  veiT  sweet  to  mY 

flesh,  and  I  was  loath  to  leave  it.  3.1  could  not 
tell  how  to  part  with  mine  old  companions,  their  presence 
and  actions  were  so  desirable  unto  me.  4.  The  hours  in 
which  convictions  were  upon  me  were  such  troublesome  and 
such  heart-affrighting  hours,  that  I  could  not  bear,  no  not 
so  much  as  the  remembrance  of  them  upon  my  heart. 

CHR.  Then  as  it  seems,  sometimes  you  got  rid  of  your 
trouble  ? 

HOPE.  Yes,  verily;  but  it  would  come  into  my  mind  again, 
and  then  I  should  be  as  bad,  nay  worse,  than  I  was  before. 


142  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

CHR.     Why,  what  was  it  that  brought  your  sins  to  mind 
again  ? 

HOPE.     Many  things;  as: 

1.  If  I  did   but  meet  a   good   man   in   the 

When  he  had 

lost  his  sense  of     streets  ;  or, 


*•  If  I  have  he*rd  any  read  in  the  Bible;  or, 
3.  If  mine  head  did  begin  to  ache;  or, 

4.  If  I  were  told  that  some  of  my  neighbors  were  sick;  or, 

5.  If  I  heard  the  bell  toll  for  some  that  were  dead;  or, 

6.  If  I  thought  of  dying  myself;  or, 

7.  If  I  heard  that  sudden  death  happened  to  others  ; 

8.  But  especially,  when  I  thought  of  myself,  that  I  must 
quickly  come  to  judgment. 

CIIR.  And  could  you  at  any  time  with  ease  get  off  the 
guilt  of  sin,  when  by  any  of  these  ways  it  came  upon  you  ? 

HOPE.  No,  not  latterly,  for  then  they  got  faster  hold  of 
my  conscience;  and  then,  if  I  did  but  think  of  going  back  to 
sin  (though  my  mind  was  turned  against  it),  it  would  be 
double  torment  to  me. 

CHR.     And  how  did  you  do  then  ? 

When  he  could          HOPE.     I  thought  I  must  endeavor  to  mend 
no  longer  shake      mv  life;  for  else,  thought  I,  I  am  sure  to  be 

ojf  his  guilt  by  J 

sinful  courses,       damned. 

endeavors  to  CHR.     And  did  you  endeavor  to  mend  ? 

HOPE.  Yes,  and  fled  from,  not  only  my  sins, 
but  sinful  company  too;  and  betook  me  to  religious  duties,  as 
praying,  reading,  weeping  for  sin,  speaking  truth  to  my 
neighbors,  etc.  These  things  did  I,  with  many  others,  too 
much  here  to  relate. 

CHR.     And  did  you  think  yourself  well  then  ? 

HOPE.     Yes,  for  a  while;  but  at  the  last  my 
trouble  came  tumbling   upon   me  again,   and 
that  over  the  neck  of  all  my  reformation. 
CHR.     How  came  that  about,  since  you  were  now  reformed  ? 
HOPE.     There  were  several   things  brought  it  upon   me, 
especially  such  sayings  as  these:  "All  our  righteousnesses  are 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  143 

as  filthy  rags."     "By  the  works  of  the  law  no  man  shall  be 
justified."     "When  you  have  done  all  things, 

Isa.  Ixiv.  6.  i  i    »  • 

say,   We  are  unprofitable  '  :  with  many  more 
Luke  xvii.  20.        such  like.     From  whence  I  began  to  reason  with 

Reformation  at  ii».i  TI»      ??  •    i  ±  /?iii 

last  could  not         myself  thus:  If  all  my  righteousnesses  are  filthy 

help,  and  why.  jf  by 


justified;  and  if,  when  we  have  done  all,  we  are  yet  unprofit- 

able, then  'tis  but  a  folly  to  think  of  heaven  by 

debtor  by  the  law    the  lawr.     I  further  thought  thus:  If  a  man  runs 

an  £100  into  the  shopkeeper's  debt,  and  after 

that  shall  pay  for  all  that  he  shall  fetch;  yet  if  his  old  debt 

stand  still  in  the  book  uncrossed,  for  that  the  shopkeeper  may 

sue  him,  and  cast  him  into  prison  till  he  shall  pay  the  debt. 

CHR.     Well,  and  how  did  you  apply  this  to  yourself  ? 

HOPE.  Why,  I  thought  thus  with  myself:  I  have  by  my 
sins  run  a  great  way  into  God's  Book,  and  that  my  now  re- 
forming will  not  pay  off  that  score;  therefore  I  should  think 
still  under  all  my  present  amendments,  But  how  shall  I  be 
freed  from  that  damnation  that  I  brought  myself  in  danger 
of  by  my  former  transgressions  ? 

CHR.     A  very  good  application  :  but  pray  go  on. 

HOPE.     Another  thing  that  hath  troubled  me,  even  since 

my  late  amendments,  is,  that  if  I  look  narrowly  into  the  best 

of  what  I  do  now,  I  still  see  sin,  new  sin,  mix- 

M^sThl^t    ing  itself  with  the  best  of  that  I  do;  so  that  now 

Km*'  trOHbled      *  am  f°rced  to  conclude,  that  notwithstanding 

my  former  fond  conceits  of  myself  and  duties,  I 

have  committed  sin  enough  in  one  duty  to  send  me  to  hell, 

though  my  former  life  had  been  faultless. 

CHR.     And  what  did  you  do  then  ? 

HOPE.  Do  !  I  could  not  tell  what  to  do,  till  I  brake  my 
mind  to  Faithful,  for  he  and  I  were  well  ac- 

This  made  him 

break  his  mind      quainted.     And  he  told  me,  that  unless  I  could 

to  Faithful,  who         ,  .          .    ,  »  i 

told  him  the  way    obtain  the  righteousness  ot  a  man  that  never 
had  sinned,  neither  mine  own,  nor  all  the  right- 
eousness of  the  world  could  save  me. 


144  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

CHR.     And  did  you  think  he  spake  true? 

HOPE.  Had  he  told  me  so  when  I  was  pleased  and  satisfied 
with  mine  own  amendments,  I  had  called  him  fool  for  his 
pains;  but  now,  since  I  see  my  own  infirmity,  and  the  sin 
that  cleaves  to  my  best  performance,  I  have  been  forced  to 
be  of  his  opinion. 

"  CHR.  But  did  you  think,  when  at  first  he  suggested  it  to 
you,  that  there  was  such  a  man  to  be  found,  of  whom  it  might 
justly  be  said,  That  he  never  committed  sin  ? 

HOPE.     I  must  confess  the  words  at  first 

At  which 

he  started  sounded    strangely;    but    after    a    little    more 

talk  and  company  with  him,  I  had  full  con- 
viction about  it. 

CHR.  And  did  you  ask  him  what  man  this  was,  and  how 
you  must  be  justified  by  him  ? 

HOPE.     Yes,  and  he  told  me  it  was  the  Lord 
Rmilfiv.  Jesus,  that  dwelleth  on  the  right  hand  of  the 

i  °Pet  i  Most  High.     And  thus,  said  he,  you  must  be 

justified  by  him,  even  by  trusting  to  what  he 
hath  done  by  himself  in  the  days  of  his  flesh,  and  suffered 
when  he  did  hang  on  the  tree.     I  asked  him  further,  How 
that  man's  righteousness  could  be  of  that  effi- 
cacy,  to  justify  another  before  God  ?     And  he 

told  me> He  was  the  mi§hty  God> and  did  what 

he  did,  and  died  the  death  also,  not  for  himself, 
but  for  me;  to  whom  his  doings,  and  the  worthiness  of  them 
should  be  imputed,  if  I  believed  on  him. 
CHR.     And  what  did  you  do  then  ? 

HOPE.     I  made  my  objections  against  my 
acceptation0          believing,  for  that  I  thought  he  was  not  willing 

Matt  xi  28  t0  SaVC  me> 

CHR.     And  what  said  Faithful  to  you  then  ? 

He  is  better  TT  TT  .  . 

instructed.  HOPE.     He   bade   me   go   to   him  and   see. 

Matt  xxiv  35       Then  I  said  it  was  presumption:  he  said,  No; 

for   I  was   invited    to   come.     Then  he  gave 

me  a  book  of  Jesus  his  inditing,  to  encourage  me  the  more 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  145 

freely   to  come;  and   he   said   concerning   that   book,   that 

every  jot  and  tittle  thereof  stood  firmer  than  heaven  and 

earth.     Then  I  asked  him,  What  I  must  do  when  I  came? 

and  he  told  me,  I  must  entreat  upon  my  knees, 

DanXCvi.6w.  with  a11  my  heart  and  soul»  the  Father  to 
reveal  him  to  me.  Then  I  asked  him  further, 
How  I  must  make  my  supplication  to  him  ?  And  he  said, 
Go,  and  thou  shalt  find  him  upon  a  mercy-seat,  where 
he  sits  all  the  year  long,  to  give  pardon  and 
Exodfxxv.  22.  forgiveness  to  them  that  come.  I  told  him  that 
^wn'v'ifsQ  ^  knew  not  what  to  say  when  I  came.  And  he 
bid  me  say  to  this  effect:  God  be  merciful  to  me 
a  sinner>  and  make  me  to  know  and  believe  in 
Jesus  Christ;  for  I  see  that  if  his  righteousnevss 
had  not  been,  or  I  have  not  faith  in  that  righteousness,  I  am 
utterly  cast  away;  Lord,  I  have  heard  that  thou  art  a  merci- 
ful God,  and  hast  ordained  that  thy  Son  Jesus  Christ  should 
be  the  Saviour  of  the  world;  and  moreover,  that  thou  art 
willing  to  bestow  him  upon  such  a  poor  sinner  as  I  am  (and 
I  am  a  sinner  indeed),  Lord,  take  therefore  this  opportunity, 
and  magnify  thy  grace  in  the  salvation  of  my  soul,  through 
thy  Son  Jesus  Christ.  Amen. 

CHR.     And  did  you  do  as  you  were  bidden? 

HOPE.     Yes;  over,  and  over,  and  over. 

tic  prays. 

CHR.     And  did  the  Father  reveal  his  Son  to  you  ? 
HOPE.     Not  at  the  first,  nor  second,  nor  third,  nor  fourth, 
nor  fifth,  no,  nor  at  the  sixth  time  neither. 
CHR.     What  did  you  do  then  ? 
HOPE.     What !  why  I  could  not  tell  what  to  do. 
CHR.     Had  you  not  thoughts  of  leaving  off  praying  ? 

HOPE.     Yes,  an  hundred  times,  twice  told. 

"a^off  praying.  CHR-  And  what  was  the  reason  you  did  not  ? 
HOPE.  I  believed  that  that  was  true  which 
had  been  told  me,  to  wit,  That  without  the  righteousness  of 
this  Christ,  all  the  world  could  not  save  me;  and  therefore 
thought  I  with  myself,  If  I  leave  off,  I  die;  and  I  can  but 


146  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

die  at  the  throne  of  grace.  And  withal,  this  came  into 
He  durst  not  m^  mind»  "If  it  tarry,  wait  for  it,  because  it 
leave  off  praying,  will  surely  come,  and  will  not  tarrv."  So  I 

and  why.  .  . 

continued    praying   until    the    Father    showed 

Hab.  ii.  3.  ,  .      ~ 

me  his  Son. 

CHR.     And  how  was  he  revealed  unto  you  ? 

HOPE.     I  did  not  see  him  with  my  bodily  eyes,  but  with 

the  eyes  of  mine  understanding;  and  thus  it  was:  One  day  I 

Eh  i  is  19       was  verv  ^d,  I  think  sadder  than  at  any  one 

time  in  my  life,  and  this  sadness  was  through  a 

LihTist  is 

revealed  to  him,      iresh  sight  of  the  greatness  and  vileness  of  my 

and  how.  .  ,  T  ,  ,       ,  . 

sins.     And  as  I  was  then  looking  for  nothing 
but  hell,  and  the  everlasting  damnation  of  my 

soul,  suddenly,  as  I  thought,  I  saw  the  Lord  Jesus  look  down 

from  heaven  upon  me,  and  saying,   "Believe  on  the  Lord 

Jesus  Christ,  and  thou  shalt  be  saved." 

But  I  replied,  Lord,  I  am  a  great,  a  very  great  sinner:  and 

he  answered,  "My  grace  is  sufficient  for  thee."     Then  I  said, 
But,  Lord,  what  is  believing  ?     And  then  I  saw 

2  Cor.  xn.  9. 

from  that  saying  ["He  that  cometh  to  me  shall 

never  hunger,  and  he  that  believeth  on  me  shall 
never  thirst"],  that  believing  and  coming  was  all  one;  and 
that  he  that  came,  that  is,  ran  out  in  his  heart  and  affections 
after  salvation  by  Christ,  he  indeed  believed  in  Christ.  Then 
the  water  stood  in  mine  eyes,  and  I  asked  further,  But,  Lord, 
may  such  a  great  sinner  as  I  am  be  indeed  accepted  of  thee, 
John  vi  37  anc*  ^e  saved  by  thee  ?  And  I  heard  him  say, 

"And  him  that  cometh  to  me  I  will  in  no  wise 
cast  out."  Then  I  said,  But  how,  Lord,  must  I  consider  of 
thee  in  my  coming  to  thee,  that  my  faith  may  be  placed 

aright  upon  thee  ?     Then  he  said,  "Christ  Jesus 

1  Tim.  i.  15.  .  e 

came  into  the  world  to  save  sinners.          He  is 

the  end  of  the  law  for  righteousness  to  every 

one  that  believes."     "He  died  for  our  sins,  and  rose  again 

for  our  justification :  He  loved  us  and  washed  us  from  our  sins 


THE   PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  147 

in  his  own  blood."  "He  is  Mediator"  between  God  and  us. 
"He  ever  liveth  to  make  intercession  for  us." 
From  all  which  I  gathered,  that  I  must  look 

Heb.  vii.  24,  25.      „  .    ,  .  .       ,  .  ,     - 

for  righteousness  in  his  person,  and  tor  sat^ 
isfaction  for  my  sins  by  his  blood;  that  what  he  did  in  obedi- 
ence to  his  Father's  law,  and  in  submitting  to  the  penalty 
thereof,  was  not  for  himself,  but  for  him  that  will  accept  it 
for  his  salvation,  and  be  thankful.  And  now  was  my  heart 
full  of  joy,  mine  eyes  full  of  tears,  and  mine  affections  running 
over  with  love  to  the  name,  people,  and  ways  of  Jesus  Christ. 

CHR.  This  was  a  revelation  of  Christ  to  your  soul  indeed; 
but  tell  me  particularly  what  effect  this  had  upon  your  spirit. 

HOPE.  It  made  me  see  that  all  the  world,  notwithstanding 
all  the  righteousness  thereof,  is  in  a  state  of  condemnation. 
It  made  me  see  that  God  the  Father,  though  he  be  just,  can 
justly  justify  the  coming  sinner.  It  made  me  greatly  ashamed 
of  the  vileness  of  my  former  life,  and  confounded  me  with  the 
sense  of  mine  own  \gnorance;  for  there  never  came  thought 
into  mine  heart  before  now,  that  showed  me  so  the  beauty  of 
Jesus  Christ.  It  made  me  love  a  holy  life,  and  long  to  do 
something  for  the  honor  and  glory  of  the  name  of  the  Lord 
Jesus.  Yea,  I  thought,  that  had  I  now  a  thousand  gallons  of 
blood  in  my  body,  I  could  spill  it  all  for  the  sake  of  the  Lord 
Jesus. 

I  saw  then  in  my  dream,  that  Hopeful  looked  back  and 
saw  Ignorance,  whom  they  had  left  behind,  coming  after. 
Look,  said  he  to  Christian,  how  far  yonder  youngster  loitereth 
behind. 

CHR.     Ay,  ay,  I  see  him;  he  careth  not  for  our  company. 

HOPE.  But  I  trow,  it  would  not  have  hurt  him,  had  he 
kept  pace  with  us  hitherto. 

CHR.  That's  true;  but  I  warrant  you  he  thinketh  other- 
wise. 

HOPE.  That  I  think  he  doth;  but,  however,  let  us  tarry 
for  him.  So  they  did. 


148  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

Then   Christian    said    to   him,    Come   away,    man,    why 
do  you  stay  so  behind? 

Young  Ignorance  J  J 

comes  up  again.         loNOR.     I  take  my  pleasure  in  walking  alone, 
even  more  a  great  deal  than  in  company,  un- 
less I  like  it  the  better. 

Then  said  Christian  to  Hopeful  (but  softly),  Did  I  not  tell 
you  he  cared  not  for  our  company  ?  But,  however,  said  he, 
come  up,  and  let  us  talk  away  the  time  in  this  solitary  place. 
Then,  directing  his  speech  to  Ignorance,  he  said,  Come,  how 
do  you  ?  How  stands  it  between  God  and  your  soul  now  ? 

IGNOR.     I  hope  well;  for  I  am  always  full  of 

Ignorance  s  ,  .  . 

hope,  and  the        good   motions,   that  co me  into  my   mind,   to 

ground  of  it.  »  T         11 

comfort  me  as  I  walk. 
CHR.     What  good  motions  ?     Pray  tell  us. 
IGNOR.     Why,  I  think  of  God  and  heaven. 
CHR.     So  do  the  devils  and  damned  souls. 
IGNOR.     But  I  think  of  them,  and  desire  them. 

CHR.     So  do  many  that  are  never  like  to 
come  there.     "The  soul  of  the  sluggard  desires, 
and  hath  nothing." 

IGNOR.     But  I  think  of  them,  and  leave  all  for  them. 
CHR.     That  I  doubt,  for  leaving  of  all  is  an  hard  matter; 
yea,  a  harder  matter  than  many  are  aware  of.     But  why,  or 
by  what,  art  thou  persuaded  that  thou  hast  left  all  for  God 
and  heaven? 

IGNOR.     My  heart  tells  me  so. 

CHR.     The  wise  man  says,  "He  that  trusts 

Prov.  xxviii.  26.  ,, 

his  own  heart  is  a  tool. 

IGNOR.  This  is  spoken  of  an  evil  heart,  but  mine  is  a  good 
one. 

CHR.     But  how  dost  thou  prove  that  ? 

IGNOR.     It  comforts  me  in  hopes  of  heaven. 

CHR.  That  may  be,  through  its  deceitfulness;  for  a  man's 
heart  may  minister  comfort  to  him  in  the  hopes  of  that  thing 
for  which  yet  he  has  no  ground  to  hope. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  149 

IGNOR.  But  my  heart  and  life  agree  together,  and  there- 
fore my  hope  is  well  grounded. 

CHR.     Who  told  thee  that  thy  heart  and  life  agree  together  ? 

IGNOR.     My  heart  tells  me  so. 

CHR.  Ask  my  fellow  if  I  be  a  thief  !  Thy  heart  tells  thee 
so  !  Except  the  Word  of  God  beareth  witness  in  this  matter, 
other  testimony  is  of  no  value. 

IGNOR.  But  is  it  not  a  good  heart  that  has  good  thoughts, 
and  is  not  that  a  good  life  that  is  according  to  God's  com- 
mandments ? 

CHR.  Yes,  that  is  a  good  heart  that  hath  good  thoughts, 
and  that  is  a  good  life  that  is  according  to  God's  command- 
ments; but  it  is  one  thing  indeed  to  have  these,  and  another 
thing  only  to  think  so. 

IGNOR.  Pray,  what  count  you  good  thoughts,  and  a  life 
according  to  God's  commandments  ? 

CHR.     There  are  good  thoughts  of  divers  kinds,  some  re- 
specting ourselves,  some  God,  some  Christ,  and  some  other 
things. 

IGNOR.     What  be  good  thoughts  respecting 
ourselves  ? 

CHR.     Such  as  agree  with  the  Word  of  God. 

IGNOR.  When  do  our  thoughts  of  ourselves  agree  with 
the  Word  of  God  ? 

CHR.     When  we  pass  the  same  judgment  upon  ourselves 

which  the  Word  passes.     To  explain  myself:  The  Word  of 

God  saith  of  persons  in  a  natural  condition, 

Rom.  in.  .  . 

There  is  none  righteous,  there  is  none  that 
doth  good."  It  saith  also,  "That  every  imagi- 
nation of  the  heart  of  man  is  only  evil,  and  that  continually." 
And  again,  "The  imagination  of  man's  heart  is  evil  from  his 
youth."  Now  then,  when  we  think  thus  of  ourselves,  having 
sense  thereof,  then  are  our  thoughts  good  ones,  because  ac- 
cording to  the  Word  of  God. 

IGNOR.     I  will  never  believe  that  my  heart  is  thus  bad. 


150  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

CHR.  Therefore  thou  never  hadst  one  good  thought  con- 
cerning thyself  in  thy  life.  But  let  me  go  on:  As  the  Word 
passeth  a  judgment  upon  our  Heart,  so  it  passeth  a  judgment 
upon  our  Ways;  and  when  OUR  thoughts  of  our  Hearts  and 
Wav,s  agree  with  the  judgment  which  the  Word  giveth  of 
both,  then  are  both  good,  because  agreeing  thereto. 

IGNOR.     Make  out  your  meaning. 

CHR.     Why,  the  Word  of  God  saith  that  man's  ways  are 

crooked  ways,  not  good,  but  perverse.     It  saith  they  are 

naturally  out  of  the  good  way,  that  thev  have 

rS.  CXXV.  O. 

Prov.  ii.  15.  not  known  it.  Now  when  a  man  thus  thinketh 
of  his  ways,  I  say  when  he  doth  sensibly,  and 
with  heart-humiliation  thus  think,  then  hath  he  good  thoughts 
of  his  own  ways,  because  his  thoughts  now  agree  with  the 
judgment  of  the  Word  of  God. 

IGNOR.     What  are  good  thoughts  concerning  God  ? 

CHR.  Even  (as  I  have  said  concerning  ourselves)  when 
our  thoughts  of  God  do  agree  with  what  the  Word  saith  of 
him.  And  that  is,  when  we  think  of  his  being  and  attributes 
as  the  Word  hath  taught :  of  which  I  cannot  now  discourse  at 
large.  But  to  speak  of  him  with  reference  to  us,  Then  we  have 
right  thoughts  of  God,  when  we  think  that  he  knows  us  better 
than  we  know  ourselves,  and  can  see  sin  in  us,  when  and 
where  we  can  see  none  in  ourselves;  when  \ve  think  he  knows 
our  inmost  thoughts,  and  that  our  heart  with  all  its  depth  is 
always  open  unto  his  eyes:  Also  when  we  think  that  all  our 
righteousness  stinks  in  his  nostrils,  and  that  therefore  he 
cannot  abide  to  see  us  stand  before  him  in  any  confidence, 
even  in  all  our  best  performances. 

IGNOR.  Do  you  think  that  I  am  such  a  fool,  as  to  think 
God  can  see  no  further  than  I  ?  or,  that  I  would  come  to  God 
in  the  best  of  my  performances  ? 

CHR.     Why,  how  dost  thou  think  in  this  matter? 

IGNOR.  Why,  to  be  short,  I  think  I  must  believe  in  Christ 
for  justification. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  151 

CHR.  How  !  think  thou  must  believe  in  Christ,  when  thou 
seest  not  thy  need  of  him  !  Thou  neither  seest  thy  original 
nor  actual  infirmities;  but  hast  such  an  opinion  of  thyself, 
and  of  what  thou  doest,  as  plainly  renders  thee  to  be  one  that 
did  never  see  a  necessity  of  Christ's  personal  righteousness  to 
justify  thee  before  God:  How  then  dost  thou  say,  I  believe 
in  Christ  ? 

IGNOR.     I  believe  well  enough  for  all  that. 

CHR.     How  dost  thou  believe? 

IGNOR.  I  believe  that  Christ  died  for  sinners,  and  that  I 
shall  be  justified  before  God  from  the  curse,  through  his  gra- 
cious acceptance  of  my  obedience  to  his  law: 
'lgnofmme°f  Or  tnus»  Christ  makes  my  duties  that  are  reli- 
gious, acceptable  to  his  Father  by  virtue  of  his 
merits;  and  so  shall  I  be  justified. 

CHR.    Let  me  give  an  answer  to  this  confession  of  thy  faith. 

1.  Thou  belie  vest  with  a  fantastical  faith,  for  this  faith  is 
nowhere  described  in  the  Word. 

2.  Thou  believest  with  a  false  faith,  because  it  taketh  jus- 
tification from  the  personal  righteousness  of  Christ,  and  ap- 
plies it  to  thy  own. 

3.  Thy  faith  maketh  not  Christ  a  justifier  of  thy  person, 
but  of  thy  actions;  and  of  thy  person  for  thy  actions'  sake, 
which  is  false. 

4.  Therefore  this  faith  is  deceitful,  even  such  as  will  leave 
thee  under  wrath  in  the  day  of  God  Almighty;  for  true  justi- 
fying faith  puts  the  soul  (as  sensible  of  its  lost  condition  by 
the  law)  upon  flying  for  refuge  unto  Christ's  righteousness 
(which  righteousness  of  his,  is  not  an  act  of  grace,  by  which 
he  maketh  for  justification  thy  obedience  accepted  with  God, 
but  his  personal  obedience  to  the  law  in  doing  and  suffering 
for  us,  what  that  required  at  our  hands) — This  righteousness, 
I  say,  true  faith  accepteth;  under  the  skirt  of  which,  the  soul 
being  shrouded,  and  by  it  presented  as  spotless  before  God, 
it  is  accepted,  and  acquit  from  condemnation. 


152  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

IGNOR.  What !  would  you  have  us  trust  to  what  Christ  in 
his  own  person  has  done  without  us  ?  This  conceit  would 
loosen  the  reins  of  our  lust,  and  tolerate  us  to  live  as  we  list. 
For  what  matter  how  we  live,  if  we  may  be  justified  by 
Christ's  personal  righteousness  from  all,  when  we  believe  it  ? 

CHR.  Ignorance  is  thy  name,  and  as  thy  name  is,  so  art 
thou;  even  this  thy  answer  demonstrateth  what  I  say.  Ig- 
norant thou  art  of  what  justifying  righteousness  is,  and  as 
ignorant  how  to  secure  thy  soul,  through  the  faith  of  it,  from 
the  heavy  wrath  of  God.  Yea,  thou  also  art  ignorant  of  the 
true  effects  of  saving  faith  in  this  righteousness  of  Christ, 
which  is,  to  bow  and  win  over  the  heart  to  God  in  Christ,  to 
love  his  name,  his  Word,  ways,  and  people,  and  not  as  thou 
ignorantly  imaginest. 

HOPE.  Ask  him  if  ever  he  had  Christ  revealed  to  him 
from  heaven. 

IGNOR.     Wnat !  you  are  a  man  for  revela- 
jangles  with          tions.     I  believe  that  what  both  you,  and  all 
the  rest  of  you,  say  about  that  matter,  is  but 
the  fruit  of  distracted  brains. 

HOPE.  Why,  man !  Christ  is  so  hid  in  God  from  the 
natural  apprehensions  of  the  flesh,  that  he  cannot  by  any 
man  be  savingly  known,  unless  God  the  Father  reveals 
him  to  them. 

IGNOR.     That  is  your  faith,  but  not  mine;  yet 

reproachfully         mine,  I  doubt  not,  is  as  good  as  yours,  though 

trwwfiwt  I  kave  not  in  my  head  so  many  whimsies  as  you. 

CHR.     Give  me  leave  to  put  in  a  word.     You 

ought  not  so  slightly  to  speak  of  this  matter;  for  this  I  will 

boldly  affirm  (even  as  my  good  companion  hath  done),  that 

no  man  can  know  Jesus  Christ  but  by  the  reve- 

i  Cor.  xii.  3.         lation  of  the  Father;,  yea,  and  faith  too,  by 

which  the  soul  layeth  hold  upon  Christ  (if  it 

be  right)  must  be  wrought  by  the  exceeding  greatness  of  his 

mighty  power;  the  working  of  which  faith,  I  perceive,  poor 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  153 

Ignorance,  thou  art  ignorant  of.  Be  awakened  then,  see  thine 
own  wretchedness,  and  fly  to  the  Lord  Jesus;  and  by  his 
righteousness,  which  is  the  righteousness  of  God  (for  he  him- 
self is  God),  thou  shalt  be  delivered  from  condemnation. 

IGNOR.     You  go  so  fast  I  cannot  keep  pace 
broklaluP.  witl1  y°u'  do  vou  S°  on  before,  I  must  stay 

a  while  behind. 
Then  they  said — 

Well,  Ignorance,  wilt  thou  yet  foolish  be, 
To  slight  good  counsel,  ten  times  given  thee? 
And  if  thou  yet  refuse  it,  thou  shalt  know 
Ere  long  the  evil  of  thy  doing  so: 
Remember,  man,  in  time;  stoop,  do  not  fear, 
Good  counsel  taken  well,  saves;  therefore  hear: 
But  if  thou  yet  shalt  slight  it,  thou  wilt  be 
The  loser  (Ignorance),  I'll  warrant  thee. 

Then  Christian  addressed  thus  himself  to  his  fellow: 

CHR.  Well,  come  my  good  Hopeful,  I  perceive  that  thou 
and  I  must  walk  by  ourselves  again. 

So  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  they  went  on  apace  before,  and 
Ignorance  he  came  hobbling  after.  Then  said  Christian  to 
his  companion,  It  pities  me  much  for  this  poor  man,  it  will 
certainly  go  ill  with  him  at  last. 

HOPE.  Alas,  there  are  abundance  in  our  town  in  his  condi- 
tion ;  whole  families,  yea,  whole  streets  (and  that  of  pilgrims 
too) ;  and  if  there  be  so  many  in  our  parts,  how  many  think 
you  must  there  be  in  the  place  where  he  was  born  ? 

CHR.  Indeed  the  Word  saith,  "He  hath  blinded  their  eyes, 
lest  they  should  see,"  etc.  But  now  we  are  by  ourselves, 
what  do  you  think  of  such  men?  Have  they  at  no  time, 
think  you,  convictions  of  sin,  and  so  consequently  fears  that 
their  state  is  dangerous  ? 

HOPE.  Nay,  do  you  answer  that  question  yourself,  for 
you  are  the  elder  man. 

CHR.     Then  I  say  sometimes  (as  I  think)  they  may,  but 


154  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

they  being  naturally  ignorant,  understand  not  that  such  con- 
victions tend  to  their  good ;  and  therefore  they  do  desperately 
seek  to  stifle  them,  and  presumptuously  continue  to  flatter 
themselves  in  the  way  of  their  own  hearts. 

HOPE.  I  do  believe  as  you  say,  that  fear  tends  much 
The  good  iise  to  men's  good,  and  to  make  them  right,  at 
of  fear.  their  beginning  to  go  on  pilgrimage. 

Jobxxviii.98.  CHR.     Without  all   doubt  it  doth,   if  it   be 

Ps.  cxi.  10. 

Pro».  i.  7.  right;  for  so  says  the  Word,  "The  fear  of  the 

Chap.  ix.  10.  T         i   •      ,1       i        •  e       •     i  t, 

Lord  is  the  beginning  ol  wisdom. 

HOPE.     How  will  you  describe  right  fear? 
CHR.     True,  or  right  fear,  is  discovered  by  three  things: 

1.  By  its  rise;  it  is  caused  by  saving  convictions  for  sin. 

2.  It  driveth  the  soul  to  lay  fast  hold  of  Christ  for  salva- 
tion. 

3.  It  begetteth  and  continueth  in  the  soul  a  great  rever- 
ence of  God,  his  Word,  and  ways,  keeping  it  tender,  and  mak- 
ing it  afraid  to  turn  from  them,  to  the  right  hand  or  to  the 
left,  to  anything  that  may  dishonor  God,  break  its  peace, 
grieve  the  Spirit,  or  cause  the  enemy  to  speak  reproachfully. 

HOPE.     Well  said;  I  believe  you  have  said  the  truth.     Are 
we  now  almost  got  past  the  Enchanted  Ground  ? 
CHR.     Why,  are  you  weary  of  this  discourse  ? 
HOPE.     No  verily,  but  that  I  would  know  where  we  are. 

CHR.     We  have  not  now  above  two  miles 
personTstifle         farther  to  go  thereon.     But  let  us  return  to  our 
matter.     Now  the  ignorant  know  not  that  such 
convictions  that  tend  to  put  them  in  fear,  are 
for  their  good,  and  therefore  they  seek  to  stifle  them. 
HOPE.     How  do  they  seek  to  stifle  them? 
CHR.     1.  They  think  that  those  fears  are  wrought  by  the 
devil  (though  indeed  they  are  wrought  of  God) ;  and  thinking 
so,  they  resist  them  as  things  that  directlv  tend 

2.  In  particular. 

to  their  overthrow.     2.  They  also  think  that 
these  fears  tend  to  the  spoiling  of  their  faith  (when,  alas  for 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  155 

them,  poor  men  that  they  are,  they  have  none  at  all),  and 
therefore  they  harden  their  hearts  against  them.  3.  They 
presume  they  ought  not  to  fear,  and  therefore,  in  despite  of 
them,  wax  presumptuously  confident.  4.  They  see  that 
these  fears  tend  to  take  away  from  them  their  pitiful  old 
self-holiness,  and  therefore  they  resist  them  with  all  their 
might. 

HOPE.  I  know  something  of  this  myself;  for  before  I  knew 
myself  it  was  so  with  me. 

CHR.  Well,  we  will  leave  at  this  time  our  neighbor  Igno- 
rance by  himself,  and  fall  upon  another  profitable  question. 

HOPE.     With  all  my  heart;  but  you  shall  still  begin. 

CHR.  Well  then,  did  you  not  know  about  ten  years 
ago,  one  Temporary  in  your  parts,  who  was 

Talk  about  £  -,  •          *i-    •         J.T         o 

one  Temporary,     a  forward  man  in  religion  then  ? 
Where  he  dwelt.         HOPE.     Know  him  !  yes ;  he  dwelt  in  Grace- 
less, a  town  about  two  miles  off  of  Honesty,  and 
he  dwelt  next  door  to  one  Turn-back. 

CHR.     Right;  he  dwelt  under  the  same  roof 
Cowardly  once.       w*tn  him.    Well,  that  man  was  much  awakened 
once:   I  believe  that  then  he  had  some  sight 
of  his  sins,  and  of  the  wages  that  was  due  thereto. 

HOPE.  I  am  of  your  mind,  for  (my  house  not  being  above 
three  miles  from  him)  he  would  ofttimes  come  to  me,  and 
that  with  many  tears.  Truly  I  pitied  the  man,  and  was  not 
altogether  without  hope  of  him;  but  one  may  see  it  is  not 

rery  one  that  cries,  "Lord,  Lord." 

CHR.  He  told  me  once,  that  he  was  resolved  to  go  on 
pilgrimage,  as  we  go  now;  but  all  of  a  sudden  he  grew  ac- 
quainted with  one  Save-self,  and  then  he  became  a  stranger 
to  me. 

HOPE.  Now,  since  we  are  talking  about  him,  let  us  a 
little  inquire  into  the  reason  of  the  sudden  backsliding  of 
him  and  such  others. 

CHR.     It  may  be  very  profitable;  but  do  you  begin. 


™l 


156  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

HOPE.     Well  then,  there  are  in  my  judgment  four  reasons 
for  it. 

1.  Though  the  consciences  of  such  men  are  awakened,  yet 
their  minds  are  not  changed:  therefore,  when  the  power  of 

guilt  weareth  awav,  that  which  provoketh  them 

Reasons  why  . 

towardly  ones        to  be  religious  ceaseth.     Wherefore  they  nat- 

go  back.  ,,  ... 

urally  turn  to  their  own  course  again,  even  as 
we  see  the  dog  that  is  sick  of  what  he  hath  eaten,  so  long  as 
his  sickness  prevails,  he  vomits  and  casts  up  all:  not  that  he 
doth  this  of  a  free  mind  (if  we  may  say  a  dog  has  a  mind)  but 
because  it  troubleth  his  stomach;  but  now,  when  his  sickness 
is  over,  and  so  his  stomach  eased,  his  desires  being  not  at  all 
alienate  from  his  vomit,  he  turns  him  about  and  licks  up  all; 

and  so  it  is  true  which  is  written,  "The  dog  is 

2  Pet.  n.  22.  •  •      »,      r™ 

turned  to  his  own  vomit  again.  Ihus  I  say, 
being  hot  for  heaven  by  virtue  only  of  the  sense  and  fear  of 
the  torments  of  hell,  as  their  sense  of  hell  and  the  fears  of 
damnation  chills  and  cools,  so  their  desires  for  heaven  and 
salvation  cool  also.  So  then  it  comes  to  pass,  that  when  their 
guilt  and  fear  is  gone,  their  desires  for  heaven  and  happiness 
die,  and  they  return  to  their  course  again. 

2.  Another  reason  is,  they  have  slavish  fears  that  do  over- 
master them:  I  speak  now  of  the  fears  that  they  have  of 

men,  "For  the  fear  of  men  bringeth  a  snare." 
So  then,  though  they  seem  to  be  hot  for  heaven 
so  long  as  the  flames  of  hell  are  about  their  ears,  yet 
when  that  terror  is  a  little  overj  they  betake  themselves 
to  second  thoughts;  namely,  that  'tis  good  to  be  wise,  and 
not  to  run  (for  they  know  not  what)  the  hazard  of  losing 
all;  or  at  least,  of  bringing  themselves  into  unavoidable 
and  unnecessary  troubles :  and  so  they  fall  in  with  the  world 
again. 

3.  The  shame  that  attends  religion  lies  also  as  a  block  in 
their  way;  they  are  proud  and  haughty,  and  religion  in  their 
eye  is  low  and  contemptible;  therefore,  when  they  have  lost 


THE  PILGRIM'S   PROGRESS  157 

their  sense  of  hell  and  wrath  to  come,  they  return  again  to 
their  former  course. 

4.  Guilt,  and  to  meditate  terror,  are  grievous  to  them. 
They  like  not  to  see  their  misery  before  they  come  into  it; 
though  perhaps  the  sight  of  it  first,  if  they  loved  that  sight, 
might  make  them  fly  whither  the  righteous  fly  and  are  safe. 
But  because  they  do,  as  I  hinted  before,  even  shun  the 
thoughts  of  guilt  and  terror,  therefore,  when  once  they  are 
rid  of  their  awakenings  about  the  terrors  and  wrath  of  God, 
they  harden  their  hearts  gladly,  and  choose  such  ways  as 
will  harden  them  more  and  more. 

CHR.  You  are  pretty  near  the  business,  for  the  bottom  of 
all  is,  for  want  of  a  change  in  their  mind  and  will.  And  there- 
fore they  are  but  like  the  felon  that  standeth  before  the  judge, 
he  quakes  and  trembles,  and  seems  to  repent  most  heartily, 
but  the  bottom  of  all  is  the  fear  of  the  halter:  not  that  he 
hath  any  detestation  of  the  offense,  as  is  evident,  because, 
let  but  this  man  have  his  liberty,  and  he  will  be  a  thief,  and 
so  a  rogue  still;  whereas,  if  his  mind  was  changed,  he  would 
be  otherwise. 

HOPE.  Now  I  have  showed  you  the  reasons  of  their  going 
back,  do  you  show  me  the  manner  thereof. 

CHR.     So  I  will  willingly. 

Hmo  the  1.  They  draw* off  their  thoughts,  all  that  they 

apostate  may,  from  the  remembrance  of  God,  death,  and 

goes  back.  .     , 

judgment  to  come. 

2.  Then  they  cast  off  by  degrees  private  duties,  as  closet- 
prayer,  curbing  their  lusts,  watching,  sorrow  for  sin,  and  the 
like. 

3.  Then  they  shun  the  company  of  lively  and  warm  Chris- 
tians. 

4.  After  that,  they  grow  cold  to  public  duty,  as  hearing, 
reading,  godly  conference,  and  the  like. 

5.  Then  they  begin  to  pick  holes,  as  we  say,  in  the  coats 
of  some  of  the  godly,  and  that  devilishly;  that  they  may  have 


158  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

a  seeming  color  to  throw  religion  (for  the  sake  of  some  in- 
firmity they  have  spied  in  them)  behind  their  backs. 

6.  Then  they  begin  to  adhere  to,  and  associate  themselves 
with,  carnal,  loose  and  wanton  men. 

7.  Then  they  give  way  to  carnal  and  wanton  discourses  in 
secret;  and  glad  are  they  if  they  can  see  such  things  in  any 
that  are  counted  honest,  that  they  may  the  more  boldly  do 
it  through  their  example.' 

8.  After  this,  they  begin  to  play  with  little  sins  openly. 

9.  And  then,  being  hardened,   they  show   themselves  as 
they  are.     Thus  being  launched  again  into  the  gulf  of  misery, 
unless  a  miracle  of  grace  prevent  it,  they  everlastingly  perish 
in  their  own  deceivings. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  by  this  time  the  pilgrims 

were  got  over  the  Enchanted  Ground,  and  entering  in  the 

country  of  Beulah,  whose  air  was  very  sweet 

and  pleasant,  the  way  lying  directly  through  it, 

they  solaced  themselves  there  for  a  season.     Yea,  here  they 

heard  continually  the  singing  of  birds,  and  saw  every  day  the 

flowers  appear  in  the  earth,  and  heard  the  voice 

Cant.  u.  10-12.  rr~ 

or  the  turtle  in  the  land.  In  this  country  the 
sun  shineth  night  and  day;  wherefore  this  was  beyond  the 
Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death,  and  also  out  of  the  reach  of 
Giant  Despair,  neither  could  they  from  this  place  so  much 
as  see  Doubting  Castle.  Here  they  were  within  sight  of  the 

city  they  were  going  to;  also  here  met  them 

some  of  the  inhabitants  thereof;  for  in  this  land 
the  Shining  Ones  commonly  walked,  because  it  was  upon  the 
borders  of  heaven.  In  this  land  also  the  contract  between 

the  Bride  and  the  Bridegroom  was  renewed; 

Isa.  Ixn.  5.  .    . 

yea  here,    As  the  bridegroom  rejoiceth  over  the 

bride,   so   did   their   God   rejoice  over  them." 

Here  they  had  no  want  of  corn  and  wine;  for  in  this  place  they 

met  with  abundance  of  what  they  had  sought  for  in  all  their 

pilgrimage.     Here  they  heard  voices  from  out  of  the  city, 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  159 

loud  voices,  saying,  "Say  ye  to  the  daughter  of  Zion, 
Behold,  thy  salvation  cometh  !  behold,  his  re- 
ward is  with  him!"  Here  all  the  inhabitants 
of  the  country  called  them  "The  holy  people, 
The  redeemed  of  the  Lord,  Sought  out,"  etc. 

Now  as  they  walked  in  this  land,  they  had  more  rejoicing 
than  in  parts  more  remote  from  the  kingdom  to  which  they 
were  bound;  and  drawing  near  to  the  city,  they  had  yet  a 
more  perfect  view  thereof.  It  was  builded  of  pearls  and  pre- 
cious stones,  also  the  street  thereof  was  paved  with  gold;  so 
that  by  reason  of  the  natural  glory  of  the  city,  and  the  reflec- 
tion of  the  sunbeams  upon  it,  Christian  with  desire  fell  sick, 
Hopeful  also  had  a  fit  or  two  of  the  same  disease.  Wherefore 
here  they  lay  by  it  a  while,  crying  out  because  of  their  pangs, 
"If  you  see  my  Beloved,  tell  him  that  I  am  sick  of  love." 

But  being  a  little  strengthened,  and  better  able  to  bear 
their  sickness,  they  walked  on  their  way,  and  came  yet  nearer 
and  nearer,  where  were  orchards,  vineyards,  and  gardens, 
and  their  gates  opened  into  the  highway.  Now  as  they  came 
up  to  these  places,  behold,  the  gardener  stood  in  the  way,  to 
Deut  xxiii  24  whom  the  pilgrims  said,  Whose  goodly  vine- 
yards and  gardens  are  these?  He  answered, 
they  are  the  King's,  and  are  planted  here  for  his  own  delights, 
and  also  for  the  solace  of  pilgrims.  So  the  gardener  had  them 
into  the  vineyards,  and  bid  them  refresh  themselves  with 
dainties.  He  also  showed  them  there  the  King's  walks,  and 
the  arbors  where  he  delighted  to  be:  and  here  they  tarried 
and  slept. 

Now  I  beheld  in  my  dream,  that  they  talked  more  in  their 
sleep  at  this  time  than  ever  they  did  in  all  their  journey;  and 
being  in  a  muse  thereabout,  the  gardener  said  even  to  me, 
Wherefore  musest  thou  at  the  matter?  It  is  the  nature  of 
the  fruit  of  the  grapes  of  these  vineyards  to  go  down  so 
sweetly  as  to  cause  the  lips  of  them  that  are  asleep  to  speak. 

So  I  saw  that  when  they  awoke,  they  addressed  themselves 


160  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

to  go  up  to  the  city.     But,  as  I  said,  the  reflection  of  the  sun 
upon  the  city  (for  the  city  was  pure  gold)  was 

Rev,  xxi.  18.  i          -i       • 

so  extremely  glorious,  that  they  could  not,  as 

yet,  with  open  face  behold  it,  but  through  an 

instrument  made  for  that  purpose.     So  I  saw,  that  as  they 

went  on,  there  met  them  two  men,  in  raiment  that  shone 

like  gold,  also  their  faces  shone  as  the  light. 

These  men  asked  the  pilgrims  whence  they  came;  and  they 
told  them.  They  also  asked  them  where  they  had  lodged, 
what  difficulties  and  dangers,  what  comforts  and  pleasures 
they  had  met  in  the  way;  and  they  told  them.  Then  said  the 
men  that  met  them,  You  have  but  two  difficulties  more  to 
meet  with,  and  then  you  are  in  the  city. 

Christian  then  and  his  companion  asked  the  men  to  go 
along  with  them,  so  they  told  them  they  would.  But,  said 
they,  you  must  obtain  it  by.  your  own  faith.  So  I  saw  in  my 
dream  that  they  went  on  together  till  they  came  in  sight  of 
the  gate. 

Now  I  further  saw,  that  betwixt  them  and  the  gate  was  a 

river,  but  there  was  no  bridge  to  go  over;  the  river  was  very 

deep.     At  the  sight,  therefore,  of  this  river  the 

pilgrims  were  much  stounded;  but  the  men  that 

went  with  them  said,  You  must  go  through,  or  you  cannot 

come  at  the  gate. 

The  pilgrims  then  began  to  inquire  if  there  was  no  other 
way  to  the  gate;  to  which  they  answered,  Yes;  but  there  hath 
not  any,  save  two,  to  wit,  Enoch  and  Elijah, 
welcome  to  been  permitted  to  tread  that  path,  since  the 

Twe%ahs™ogutbof  foundation  of  the  world,  nor  shall,  until  the  last 
for^M  int°  trumpet  shall  sound.  The  pilgrims  then,  espe- 
i  Cor.  xv.  si,  52.  ciaiiy  Christian,  began  to  despond  in  their 
Angels  help  us  niinds,  and  looked  this  way  and  that,  but  no 
not  comfortably  way  could  be  found  by  them  by  which  they 

through  death. 

might  escape  the  river.     Then  they  asked  the 
men  if  the  waters  were  all  of  a  depth.     They  said,  No;  yet 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  161 

they  could  not  help  them  in  that  case;  for  said  they,  You 
shall  find  it  deeper  or  shallower,  as  you  believe  in  the  King  of 
the  place. 

They  then  addressed  themselves  to  the  water;  and  entering, 
Christian  began  to  sink,  and,  crying  out  to  his  good  friend 
Hopeful,  he  said,  I  sink  in  deep  waters;  the  billows  go  over 
my  head,  all  his  waves  go  over  me  !  Selah. 

Then  said  the  other,  Be  of  good  cheer,  my  brother;  I  feel 
the  bottom,  and  it  is  good.  Then  said  Christian,  Ah,  my 
friend,  the  sorrows  of  death  have  compassed  me 
conflict  at  the  about;  I  shall  not  see  the  land  that  flows  with 
milk  and  honey.  And  with  that,  a  great  dark- 
ness and  horror  fell  upon  Christian,  so  that  he  could  not  see 
before  him.  Also  here  he  in  great  measure  lost  his  senses; 
so  that  he  could  neither  remember  nor  orderly  talk  of  any  of 
those  sweet  refreshments  that  he  had  met  with  in  the  way  of 
his  pilgrimage.  But  all  the  words  that  he  spake  still  tended 
to  discover  that  he  had  horror  of  mind,  and  heart-fears  that 
he  should  die  in  that  river,  and  never  obtain  entrance  in  at 
the  gate.  Here  also,  as  they  that  stood  by  perceived,  he 
was  much  in  the  troublesome  thoughts  of  the  sins  that  he  had 
committed,  both  since  and  before  he  began  to  be  a  pilgrim. 
It  was  also  observed  that  he  was  troubled  with  apparitions  of 
hobgoblins  and  evil  spirits;  forever  and  anon  he  would  inti- 
mate so  much  by  words.  Hopeful  therefore  here  had  much 
ado  to  keep  his  brother's  head  above  water;  yea,  sometimes 
he  would  be  quite  gone  down,  and  then,  ere  a  while,  he  would 
rise  up  again  half  dead.  Hopeful  also  would  endeavor  to 
comfort  him,  saying,  Brother,  I  see  the  gate,  and  men  stand- 
ing by  to  receive  us;  but  Christian  would  answer,  It  is  you, 
it  is  you  they  wait  for;  you  have  been  hopeful  ever  since  I 
knew  you.  And  so  have  you,  said  he  to  Christian.  Ah, 
brother !  said  he,  surely  if  I  was  right,  he  would  now  arise  to 
help  me;  but  for  my  sins  he  hath  brought  me  into  the  snare, 

tid  hath  left  me.     Then  said  Hopeful,  My  brother,  you  have 


162  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

quite  forgot  the  text  where  it  is  said  of  the  wicked,  "There 
is  no  band  in  their  death,  but  their  strength  is 

Ps.  Ixxiii.  4,  5. 

firm;  they  are  not  troubled  as  other  men, 
neither  are  they  plagued  like  other  men."  These  troubles 
and  distresses  that  you  go  through  in  these  waters  are  no 
sign  that  God  hath  forsaken  you;  but  are  sent  to  try  you, 
whether  you  will  call  to  mind  that  which  heretofore  you  have 
received  of  his  goodness,  and  live  upon  him  in  your  distresses. 
Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  Christian  was  in  a  muse  a 
while.  To  whom  also  Hopeful  added  this  word,  "Be  of  good 

cheer,  Jesus  Christ  maketh  thee  whole."  And 
delivered  from  with  that  Christian  brake  out  with  a  loud  voice, 
in  death.  On»  I  see  nim  again!  and  he  tells  me,  "When 

thou  passest  through  the  waters,  I  will  be  with 

Isa.  xlin.  2.  e 

thee;  and  through  the  rivers,  they  shall  not 
overflow  thee."  Then  they  both  took  courage,  and  the 
enemy  was  after  that  as  still  as  a  stone  until  they  were  gone 
over.  Christian  therefore  presently  found  ground  to  stand 
upon;  and  so  it  followed  that  the  rest  of  the  river  was  but 
shallow.  Thus  they  got  over.  Now,  upon  the  bank  of  the 

river,  on  the  other  side,  they  saw  the  two  Shin- 

The  angels  do  » 

wait  for  them  as     mg  Men   again,   who  there  waited  for   them. 

soon  as  they  are  •  ,  i 

passed  out  of  this    Wherefore,  being  come  out  ot  the  river,  they 
saluted  them,  saying,  We  are  ministering  spirits, 
sent  forth  to  minister  for  those  that  shall  be  heirs  of  salva- 
tion.    Thus  they  went  along  towards  the  gate.     Now  you 
must  note  that  the  city  stood  upon  a  mighty  hill;  but  the 
pilgrims  went  up  that  hill  with  ease,  because  they  had  these 
two  men  to  lead  them  up  by  the  arms :  also  they 
ofemorta!itPyUt       nad  left  their  mortal  garments  behind  them  in 
the  river;  for,  though  they  went  in  with  them, 
they  came  out  without  them.     They  therefore  went  up  here 
with  much  agility  and  speed,  though  the  foundation  upon 
which  the  city  was  framed  was  higher  than  the  clouds;  they 
therefore  went  up  through  the  regions  of  the  air,  sweetly 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  163 

talking  as  they  went,  being  comforted,  because  they  safely 
got  over  the  river,  and  had  such  glorious  companions  to 
attend  them. 

The  talk  they  had  with  the  Shining  Ones  was  about  the 

glory  of  the  place,  who  told  them  that  the  beauty  and  glory 

of  it  was  inexpressible.     There,  said  they,  is  the  Mount  Zion, 

the  heavenly  Jerusalem,  the  innumerable  company  of  angels, 

and  the  spirits  of  just  men  made  perfect.     You 

neb.  xn.  XX— x4. 

..  are  going  now,  said  they,  to  the  paradise  of 

God,  wherein  you  shall  see  the  tree  of  life,  and 
eat  of  the  never-fading  fruits  thereof;  and  when 
you  come  there,  you  shall  have  white  robes  given  you,  and 
your  walk  and  talk  shall  be  every  day  with  the  King,  even 
all  the  days  of  eternity.     There  you  shall  not  see  again  such 
things  as  you  saw  when  you  were  in  the  lower  region  upon 
the  earth,  to  wit,  sorrow,  sickness,  affliction,  and  death;  "for 
the  former  things  are  passed  away."     You  are 
'   '     going  now  to  Abraham,  to  Isaac,  and  Jacob, 
CtepJbK  IT!        anc*  to  t*16  Pr°phets;  men  that  God  hath  taken 
away  from  the  evil  to  come,  and  that  are  now 
resting  upon  their  beds,  each  one  walking  in  his  righteousness. 
The  men  then  asked,  What  must  we  do  in  the  holy  place? 
To  whom  it  was  answered,  You  must  there  receive  the  com- 
fort of  all  your  toil,  and  have  joy  for  all  your  sorrow;  you 
must  reap  what  you  have  sown,  even  the  fruit 
of  all  your  prayers  and  tears,  and  sufferings  for 
the  King  by  the  way.     In  that  place  you  must  wear  crowns 
of  gold,  and  enjoy  the  perpetual  sight  and  visions  of  the 
Holy  One;  for  there  "you  shall  see  him  as  he 
is."     There  also  you  shall  serve  him  continually 
with  praise,  with  shouting  and  thanksgiving,  whom  you  de- 
sired to  serve  in  the  world,  though  with  much  difficulty,  be- 
cause of  the  infirmity  of  your  flesh.     There  your  eyes  shall 
be  delighted  with  seeing,  and  your  ears  with  hearing  the 
pleasant  voice  of  the  Mighty  One.     There  you  shall  enjoy 


164  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

your  friends  again  that  are  gone  thither  before  you;  and  there 
you  shall  with  joy  receive  even  every  one  that  follows  into 
the  holy  place  after  you.  There  also  you  shall  be  clothed 
with  glory  and  majesty,  and  put  into  an  equipage  fit  to  ride 
i  Thess  iv  out  w*tn  tne  King  of  Glory.  When  he  shall 

13-16.  come  with  sound  of  trumpet  in  the  clouds,  as 

Jude  14.  ; r 

Dan.  vii.  9,  io.      upon  the  wings  or  the  wind,  you  shall  come 

1  Cor.  vi.  2,  3.  -.11  •  j       i         T_       i     11     -,*  Ai         i 

with  him ;  and  when  he  shall  sit  upon  the  throne 
of  judgment,  you  shall  sit  by  him;  yea,  and  when  he  shall 
pass  sentence  upon  all  the  workers  of  iniquity,  let  them  be 
angels  or  men,  you  also  shall  have  a  voice  in  that  judgment, 
because  they  were  his  and  your  enemies.  Also,  when  he 
shall  again  return  to  the  city,  you  shall  go  too,  with  sound  of 
trumpet,  and  be  ever  with  him.1 

Now  while  they  were  thus  drawing  towards  the  gate,  be- 
hold, a  company  of  the  heavenly  host  came  out  to  meet  them ; 
to  whom  it  was  said  by  the  other  two  Shining  Ones,  These 
are  the  men  that  have  loved  our  Lord  when  they  were  in  the 
world,  and  that  have  left  all  for  his  holy  name;  and  he  hath 
sent  us  to  fetch  them,  and  we  have  brought  them  thus  far 
on  their  desired  journey,  that  they  may  go  in  and  look  their 
Redeemer  in  the  face  with  joy.  Then  the  heavenly  host  gave 
a  great  shout  saying,  "Blessed  are  they  that 
are  called  to  the  marriage  supper  of  the  Lamb." 
There  came  out  also  at  this  time  to  meet  them  several  of  the 
King's  trumpeters,  clothed  in  white  and  shining  raiment, 
who,  with  melodious  noises,  and  loud,  made  even  the  heavens 
to  echo  with  their  sound.  These  trumpeters  saluted  Chris- 
tian and  his  fellow  with  ten  thousand  welcomes  from  the 
world;  and  this  they  did  with  shouting,  and  sound  of  trumpet. 
This  done,  they  compassed  them  round  on  every  side; 
some  went  before,  some  behind,  and  some  on  the  right  hand, 

1  Now,  now  look  how  the  holy  pilgrims  ride, 
Clouds  are  their  chariots,  angels  are  their  guide:     ' 
Who  would  not  here  for  him  all  hazards  run, 
That  thus  provides  for  his  when  this  world's  done? 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  165 

some  on  the  left  (as  'twere  to  guard  them  through  the  upper 
regions),  continually  sounding  as  they  went,  with  melodious 
noise,  in  notes  on  high:  so  that  the  very  sight  was  to  them 
that  could  behold  it,  as  if  heaven  itself  was  come  down  to 
meet  them.  Thus  therefore  they  walked  on  together;  and  as 
they  walked,  ever  and  anon  these  trumpeters,  even  with  joy- 
ful sound,  would,  by  mixing  their  music  with  looks  and  ges- 
tures, still  signify  to  Christian  and  his  brother  how  welcome 
they  were  into  their  company,  and  with  what  gladness  they 
came  to  meet  them.  And  now  were  these  two  men,  as  'twere 
in  heaven,  before  they  came  at  it,  being  swallowed  up  with 
the  sight  of  angels,  and  with  hearing  of  their  melodious  notes. 
Here  also  they  had  the  city  itself  in  view,  and  they  thought 
they  heard  all  the  bells  therein  to  ring,  to  welcome  them 
thereto.  But  above  all,  the  warm  and  joyful  thoughts  that 
they  had  about  their  own  dwelling  there,  with  such  company, 
and  that  forever  and  ever.  Oh  !  by  what  tongue  or  pen  can 
their  glorious  joy  be  expressed ! — Thus  they  came  up  to  the 
gate. 

Now  when  they  were  come  up  to  the  gate,  there  was 
written  over  it  in  letters  of  gold,  "BLESSED  ARE 

Rev.  xxn.  14. 

THEY  THAT  DO  HIS  COMMANDMENTS,  THAT  THEY 

MAY  HAVE  RIGHT  TO  THE  TREE  OF  LIFE,  AND  MAY  ENTER  IN 
THROUGH  THE  GATES  INTO  THE  CITY." 

Then  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  the  Shining  Men  bid  them 
call  at  the  gate;  the  which  when  they  did,  some  from  above 
looked  over  the  gate,  to  wit,  Enoch,  Moses,  and  Elijah,  etc., 
to  whom  it  was  said,  These  pilgrims  are  come  from  the  City 
of  Destruction,  for  the  love  that  they  bear  to  the  King  of 
this  place:  and  then  the  pilgrims  gave  in  unto  them  each  man 
his  certificate,  which  they  had  received  in  the  beginning; 
those,  therefore,  were  carried  in  to  the  King,  who,  when  he 
had  read  them,  said,  Where  are  the  men?  To 

Isa.  xxvi.  2. 

whom    it   was    answered,    They    are   standing 
without  the  gate.     The  King  then  commanded  to  open  the 


166  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

gate,  "That  the  righteous  nation,"  said  he,  "that  keepeth 
truth  may  enter  in." 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  these  two  men  went  in  at 
the  gate;  and  lo,  as  they  entered,  they  were  transfigured,  and 
they  had  raiment  put  on  that  shone  like  gold.  There  was 
also  that  met  them  with  harps  and  crowns,  and  gave  them 
to  them;  the  harps  to  praise  withal,  and  the  crowns  in  token 
of  honor.  Then  I  heard  in  my  dream  that  all  the  bells  in 
the  city  rang  again  for  joy,  and  that  it  was  said  unto  them, 
"Enter  ye  into  the  joy  of  your  Lord."  I  also  heard  the  men 
themselves,  that  they  sang  with  a  loud  voice, 

licv.  v.  13,  14. 

saying,  Blessing,  honor,  glory,  and  power  he 
to  him  that  sitteth  upon  the  throne,  and  to  the  Lamb,  for- 
ever and  ever." 

Now  just  as  the  gates  were  opened  to  let  in  the  men,  I 
looked  in  after  them;  and  behold,  the  city  shone  like  the  sun; 
the  streets  also  were  paved  with  gold,  and  in  them  walked 
many  men,  with  crowns  on  their  heads,  palms  in  their  hands, 
and  golden  harps  to  sing  praises  withal. 

There  were  also  of  them  that  had  wings,  and  they  answered 
one  another  without  intermission,  saying,  "Holy,  holy,  holy, 
is  the  Lord."  And  after  that  they  shut  up  the  gates;  which, 
when  I  had  seen,  I  wished  myself  among  them. 

Now  while  I  was  gazing  upon  all  these  things,  I  turned  my 
head  to  look  back,  and  saw  Ignorance  come  up  to  the  river- 
side; but  he  soon  got  over,  and  that  without 
half  that  difficulty  which  the  other  two  men 
met  with.  For  it  happened  that  there  was  then 
in  that  place  one  Vain-hope,  a  ferryman,  that  with  his  boat 
helped  him  over;  so  he,  as  the  other  I  saw,  did  ascend  the 
hill  to  come  up  to  the  gate,  only  he  came  alone; 
™y~ him  over*  neither  did  any  man  meet  him  with  the  least 
encouragement.  When  he  was  come  up  to  the 
gate,  he  looked  up  to  the  writing  that  was  above,  and  then 
began  to  knock,  supposing  that  entrance  should  have  been 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  167 

quickly  administered  to  him;  but  he  was  asked  by  the  men 
that  looked  over  the  top  of  the  gate,  Whence  came  you  ?  and 
what  would  you  have  ?  He  answered,  I  have  eat  and  drank 
in  the  presence  of  the  King,  and  he  has  taught  in  our  streets. 
Then  they  asked  him  for  his  certificate,  that  they  might  go 
in  and  show  it  to  the  King.  So  he  fumbled  in  his  bosom  for 
one,  and  found  none.  Then  said  they,  Have  you  none  ?  But 
the  man  answered  never  a  word.  So  they  told  the  King,  but 
he  would  not  come  down  to  see  him,  but  commanded  the  two 
Shining  Ones  that  conducted  Christian  and  Hopeful  to  the 
city,  to  go  out  and  take  Ignorance  and  bind  him  hand  and 
foot,  and  have  him  away.  Then  they  took  him  up,  and  car- 
ried him  through  the  air,  to  the  door  that  I  saw  in  the  side  of 
the  hill,  and  put  him  in  there.  Then  I  saw  that  there  was 
a  way  to  hell  even  from  the  gates  of  heaven,  as  well  as  from 
the  City  of  Destruction. 

So  I  awoke,  and  behold,  it  was  a  dream. 

FINIS 


168  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 


THE  CONCLUSION 

Now,  Reader,  I  have  told  my  Dream  to  thee; 

See  if  thou  canst  interpret  it  to  me, 

Or  to  thyself,  or  neighbor;  but  take  heed 

Of  misinterpreting;  for  that,  instead 

Of  doing  good,  will  but  thyself  abuse: 

By  misinterpreting;  evil  ensues. 

Take  heed  also,  that  thou  be  not  extreme 
In  playing  with  the  outside  of  my  Dream: 
Nor  let  my  figure  or  similitude 
Put  thee  into  a  laughter  or  a  feud; 
Leave  this  for  boys  and  fools;  but  as  for  thee, 
Do  thou  the  substance  of  my  matter  see. 

Put  by  the  curtains,  look  within  my  veil; 
Turn  up  my  metaphors,  and  do  not  fail 
There,  if  thou  seekest  them,  such  things  to  find, 
As  will  be  helpful  to  an  honest  mind. 

What  of  my  dross  thou  findest  there,  be  bold 
To  throw  away,  but  yet  preserve  the  gold; 
What  if  my  gold  be  wrapped  up  in  ore? — 
None  throws  away  the  apple  for  the  core: 
But  if  thou  shalt  cast  all  away  as  vain, 
I  know  not  but  'twill  make  me  dream  again. 

THE   END 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

FROM  THIS  WORLD  TO  THAT  WHICH  IS 
TO  COME: 

The  Second  Part 

DELIVERED  UNDER  THE  SIMILITUDE  OF  A  DREAM: 
WHEREIN  IS  SET  FORTH  THE  MANNER  OF  THE  SET- 
TING OUT  OF  CHRISTIAN'S  WIFE  AND  CHILDREN, 
THEIR  DANGEROUS  JOURNEY,  AND  SAFE  ARRIVAL 
AT  THE  DESIRED  COUNTRY: 

BY 

JOHN  BUNYAN 


7  have  used  Similitudes. — Hos.  xii.  10. 


THE  AUTHOR'S  WAY  OF  SENDING  FORTH  HIS 
SECOND  PART  OF  THE  PILGRIM 

Go  now,  my  little  Book,  to  every  place 

Where  my  first  Pilgrim  has  but  shown  his  face; 

Call  at  their  door.     If  any  say,  Who's  there? 

Then  answer  thou,  Christiana  is  here. 

If  they  bid  thee  come  in,  then  enter  thou, 

With  all  thy  boys;  and  then,  as  thou  know'st  how, 

Tell  who  they  are,  also  from  whence  they  came; 

Perhaps  they'll  know  them  by  their  looks  or  name. 

But  if  they  should  not,  ask  them  yet  again 

If  formerly  they  did  not  entertain 

One  Christian,  a  Pilgrim?     If  they  say 

They  did,  and  were  delighted  in  his  way; 

Then  let  them  know  that  those  related  were 

Unto  him,  yea,  his  wife  and  children  are. 

Tell  them,  that  they  have  left  their  house  and  home, 
Are  turned  Pilgrims,  seek  a  world  to  come; 
That  they  have  met  with  hardships  in  the  way; 
That  they  do  meet  with  troubles  night  and  day; 
That  they  have  trod  on  serpents,  fought  with  devils; 
Have  also  overcome  a  many  evils. 
Yea,  tell  them  also  of  the  next,  who  have 
Of  love  to  pilgrimage  been  stout  and  brave 
Defenders  of  that  way,  and  how  they  still 
Refuse  this  world,  to  do  their  Father's  will. 

Go,  tell  them  also  of  those  dainty  things 
That  Pilgrimage  unto  the  Pilgrim  brings. 
Let  them  acquainted  be,  too,  how  they  are 
Beloved  of  their  King,  under  his  care; 
What  goodly  mansions  for  them  he  provides, 
Tho'  they  meet  with  rough  winds  and  swelling  tides, 
How  brave  a  calm  they  will  enjoy  at  last, 
Who  to  their  Lord,  and  by  his  ways  hold  fast. 

Perhaps  with  heart  and  hand  they  will  embrace 
Thee,  as  they  did  my  firstling,  and  will  grace 
Thee,  and  thy  fellows,  with  such  cheer  and  fare, 
Ae  show  will  they  of  Pilgrims  lovers  are. 
171 


172  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 


1.    OBJECT 

But  how  if  they  will  not  believe  of  me 
That  I  am  truly  thine;  'cause  some  there  be 
That  counterfeit  the  Pilgrim  and  his  name, 
Seek  by  disguise  to  seem  the  very  same, 
And  by  that  means  have  wrought  themselves  into 
The  hands  and  houses  of  I  know  not  who? 

ANSWER 

'Tis  true,  some  have  of  late,  to  counterfeit 
My  Pilgrim,  to  their  own  my  title  set; 
Yea  others,  half  my  name  and  title  too 
Have  stitched  to  their  book,  to  make  them  do; 
But  yet  they,  by  their  features,  do  declare 
Themselves  not  mine  to  be,  whose' er  they  are. 

If  such  thou  meet'st  with,  then  thine  only  way 
Before  them  all,  is,  to  say  out  thy  say, 
In  thine  own  native  language,  which  no  man 
Now  useth,  nor  with  ease  dissemble  can. 
If,  after  all,  they  still  of  you  shall  doubt, 
Thinking  that  you,  like  gipsies,  go  about 
In  naughty  wise  the  country  to  defile, 
Or  that  you  seek  good  people  to  beguile 
With  things  unwarrantable;  send  for  me, 
And  I  will  testify  you  Pilgrims  be; 
Yea,  I  will  testify  that  only  you 
My  Pilgrims  are;  and  that  alone  will  do. 

2.  OBJECT 

But  yet,  perhaps,  I  may  inquire  for  him, 
Of  those  that  wish  him  damned,  life  and  limb. 
What  shall  I  do,  when  I  at  such  a  door 
For  Pilgrims  ask,  and  they  shall  rage  the  more? 


Fright  not  thyself,  my  Book,  for  such  bugbears 
Are  nothing  else  but  ground  for  groundless  fears. 
My  Pilgrim's  book  has  travell'd  sea  and  land, 
Yet  could  I  never  come  to  understand 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  173 

That  it  was  slighted,  or  turn'd  out  of  door 
By  any  kingdom,  were  they  rich  or  poor. 

In  France  and  Flanders,  where  men  kill  each  other, 
My  Pilgrim  is  esteem'd  a  friend,  a  brother. 

In  Holland  too,  'tis  said,  as  I  am  told, 
My  Pilgrim  is  with  some  worth  more  than  gold. 

Highlanders  and  wild  Irish  can  agree 
My  Pilgrim  should  familiar  with  them  be. 

'Tis  in  New  England  under  such  advance, 
Receives  there  so  much  loving  countenance, 
As  to  be  trimm'd,  new  clothed,  and  deck'd  with  gems, 
That  it  may  show  its  features  and  its  limbs, 
Yet  more;  so  comely  doth  my  Pilgrim  walk, 
That  of  him  thousands  daily  sing  and  talk. 

If  you  draw  nearer  home,  it  will  appear 
My  Pilgrim  knows  no  ground  of  shame  or  £ear; 
City  and  country  will  him  entertain 
With,  Welcome,  Pilgrim;  yea,  they  can't  refrain 
From  smiling,  if  my  Pilgrim  be  but  by, 
Or  shows  his  head  in  any  company. 

Brave  gallants  do  my  Pilgrim  hug  and  love, 
Esteem  it  much,  yea,  value  it  above 
Things  of  a  greater  bulk;  yea,  with  delight, 
Say,  My  lark's  leg  is  better  than  a  kite. 

Young  ladies,  and  young  gentlewomen  too, 
Do  no  small  kindness  to  my  Pilgrim  show; 
Their  cabinets,  their  bosoms,  and  their  hearts 
My  Pilgrim  has,  'cause  he  to  them  imparts 
His  pretty  riddles  in  such  wholesome  strains, 
As  yield  them  profit  double  to  their  pains 
Of  reading:  yea,  I  think  I  may  be  bold 
To  say,  some  prize  him  far  above  their  gold. 

The  very  children  that  do  walk  the  street, 
If  they  do  but  my  holy  Pilgrim  meet, 
Salute  him  will,  will  wish  him  well,  and  say, 
He  is  the  only  stripling  of  the  day. 

They  that  have  never  seen  him,  yet  admire 
What  they  have  heard  of  him,  and  much  desire 
To  have  his  company,  and  hear  him  tell 
Those  Pilgrim  stories  which  he  knows  so  well. 

Yea,  some  who  did  not  love  him  at  the  first, 
But  call'd  him  fool  and  noddy,  say  they  must, 


174  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

Now  they  have  seen  and  heard  him,  him  commend, 
And  to>  those  whom  they  love,  they  do  him  send. 

Wherefore,  my  Second  Part,  thou  need'st  not  be 
Afraid  to  show  thy  head;  none  can  hurt  thee, 
That  wish  but  well  to  him  that  went  before, 
'Cause  thou  com'st  after  with  a  second  store 
Of  things  as  good,  as  rich,  as  profitable, 
For  young,  for  old,  for  stagg'ring,  and  for  stable. 

3.  OBJECT 

But  some  there  be  that  say,  he  laughs  too  loud; 
And  some  do  say  his  head  is  in  a  cloud. 
Some  say,  his  words  and  stories  are  so  dark, 
They  know  not  how,  by  them,  to  find  his  mark. 


One  may  (I  think)  say.  Both  his  laughs  and  cries 
May  well  be  guess'd  at  by  his  watery  eyes. 
Some  things  are  of  that  nature  as  to  make 
One's  fancy  checkle,  while  his  heart  doth  ache. 
When  Jacob  saw  his  Rachel  with  the  sheep, 
He  did  at  the  same  time  both  kiss  and  weep. 

Whereas  some  say,  A  cloud  is  in  his  head, 
That  doth  but  show  how  wisdom's  covered 
With  its  own  mantles,  and  to  stir  the  mind 
To  a  search  after  what  it  fain  would  find: 
Things  that  seem  to  be  hid  in  words  obscure, 
Do  but  the  godly  mind  the  more  allure; 
To  study  what  those  sayings  should  contain, 
That  speak  to  us  in  such  a  cloudy  strain. 

I  also  know  a  dark  similitude 
Will  on  the  fancy  more  itself  intrude, 
And  will  stick  faster  in  the  heart  and  head, 
Than  things  from  similes  not  borrowed. 

Wherefore,  my  Book,  let  no  discouragement 
Hinder  thy  travels.     Behold  thou  art  sent 
To  friends,  not  foes;  to  friends  that  will  give  place 
To  thee,  thy  Pilgrims,  and  thy  words  embrace. 

Besides,  what  my  first  Pilgrim  left  conceal'd, 
Thou,  my  brave  second  Pilgrim,  hast  reveal'd; 
What  Christian  left  lock'd  up,  and  went  his  way, 
Sweet  Christiana  opens  with  her  key. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  175 

4.    OBJECT 

But  some  love  not  the  method  of  your  first: 
Romance  they  count  it;  throw' t  away  as  dust. 
If  I  should  meet  with  such,  what  should  I  say  ? 
Must  I  slight  them  as  they  slight  me,  or  nay? 


My  Christiana,  if  with  such  thou  meet, 
By  all  means  in  all  loving  wise  them  greet; 
Render  them  not  reviling  for  revile; 
But  if  they  frown,  I  prithee  on  them  smile; 
Perhaps  'tis  nature,  or  some  ill  report, 
Has  made  them  thus  despise,  or  thus  retort. 

Some  love  no  cheese,  some  love  no  fish,  and  some 
Love  not  their  friends,  nor  their  own  house  or  home; 
Some  start  at  pig,  slight  chicken,  love  not  fowl, 
More  than  they  love  a  cuckoo  or  an  owl; 
Leave  such,  my  Christiana,  to  their  choice, 
And  seek  those  who  to  find  thee  will  rejoice; 
By  no  means  strive,  but  in  humble-wise 
Present  thee  to  them  in  thy  Pilgrim's  guise. 

Go  then,  my  little  Book,  and  show  to  all 
That  entertain,  and  bid  thee  welcome  shall, 
What  thou  shalt  keep  close,  shut  up  from  the  rest, 
And  wish  what  thou  shalt  show  them  may  be  blest 
To  them  for  good,  may  make  them  choose  to  be 
Pilgrims,  better  by  far,  than  thee  or  me. 

Go  then,  I  say,  tell  all  men  who  thou  art, 
Say,  I  am  Christiana,  and  my  part 
Is  now,  with  my  four  sons,  to  tell  you  what 
It  is  for  men  to  take  a  Pilgrim's  lot: 

Go  also  tell  them  who,  and  what  they  be, 
That  now  do  go  on  pilgrimage  with  thee: 
Say,  here's  my  neighbor  Mercy,  she  is  one 
That  has  long  time  with  me  a  Pilgrim  gone. 
Come,  see  in  her  virgin  face,  and  learn 
'Twixt  idle  ones  and  Pilgrims  to  discern. 
Yea,  let  young  damsels  learn  of  her  to  prize 
The  world  which  is  to  come,  in  any  wise. 
When  little  tripping  maidens  follow  God, 
And  leave  old  doting  sinners  to  his  rod; 


176  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

"Tis  like  those  days  wherein  the  young  ones  cried 
Hosanna !  to  whom  old  ones  did  deride. 

Next  tell  them  of  old  Honest,  who  you  found 
With  his  white  hairs  treading  the  Pilgrim's  ground. 
Yea,  tell  them  how  plain-hearted  this  man  was, 
How  after  his  good  Lord  he  bare  his  cross; 
Perhaps  with  some  gray  head  this  may  prevail 
With  Christ  to  fall  in  love,  and  sin  bewail. 

Tell  them  also  how  Master  Fearing  went 
On  pilgrimage,  and  how  the  time  he  spent 
In  solitariness,  with  fears  and  cries, 
And  how  at  last  he  won  the  joyful  prize. 
He  was  a  good  man,  though  much  down  in  spirit, 
He  is  a  good  man,  and  doth  life  inherit. 

Tell  them  of  Master  Feeble-mind  also, 
Who,  not  before,  but  still  behind  would  go; 
Show  them  also  how  he  had  like  been  slain, 
And  how  one  Great-heart  did  his  life  regain: 
This  man  was  true  of  heart,  tho'  weak  in  grace, 
One  might  true  godliness  read  in  his  face. 

Then  tell  them  of  Master  Ready-to-halt, 
A  man  with  crutches,  but  much  without  fault; 
Tell  them  how  Master  Feeble-mind  and  he 
Did  love,  and  in  opinions  much  agree. 
And  let  all  know,  tho'  weakness  was  their  chance, 
Yet  sometimes  one  could  sing,  the  other  dance. 

Forget  not  Master  Valiant-for-the-truth, 
That  man  of  courage,  though  a  very  youth. 
Tell  every  one  his  spirit  was  so  stout, 
No  man  could  ever  make  him  face  about, 
And  how  Great-heart  and  he  could  not  forbear, 
But  put  down  Doubting  Castle,  slay  Despair. 

Overlook  not  Master  Despondency, 
Nor  Much-afraid,  his  daughter,  tho'  they  lie 
Under  such  mantles  as  may  make  them  look 
(With  some)  as  if  their  God  had  them  forsook. 
They  softly  went,  but  sure,  and  at  the  end 
Found  that  the  Lord  of  Pilgrims  was  their  Friend. 
When  thou  hast  told  the  world  of  all  these  things, 
Then  turn  about,  my  Book,  and  touch  these  strings, 
Which,  if  but  touched,  will  such  music  make, 
They'll  make  a  cripple  dance,  a  giant  quake. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  177 

These  riddles  that  lie  couch'd  within  thy  breast, 
Freely  propound,  expound;  and  for  the  rest 
Of  thy  mysterious  lines,  let  them  remain 
For  those  whose  nimble  fancies  shall  them  gain. 

Now  may  this  little  Book  a  blessing  be 
To  those  that  love  this  little  Book  and  me: 
And  may  its  buyer  have  no  cause  to  say, 
His  money  is  but  lost  or  thrown  away; 
Yea,  may  this  second  Pilgrim  yield  that  fruit, 
As  may  with  each  good  Pilgrim's  fancy  suit 
And  may  it  persuade  some  that  go  astray, 
To  turn  their  foot  and  heart  to  the  right  way. 

Is  the  hearty  prayer 

of  the  Author, 

JOHN  BUNYAN. 


THE   PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

IN  THE  SIMILITUDE  OF  A  DREAM 

THE  SECOND  PART 

COURTEOUS  companions,  some  time  since,  to  tell  you  my 
dream  that  I  had  of  Christian  the  Pilgrim,  and  of  his  dan- 
gerous journey  toward  the  Celestial  Country,  was  pleasant 
to  me,  and  profitable  to  you.  I  told  you  then  also  what  I 
saw  concerning  his  wife  and  children,  and  how  unwilling 
they  were  to  go  with  him  on  pilgrimage,  insomuch  that  he 
was  forced  to  go  on  his  progress  without  them;  for  he  durst 
not  run  the  danger  of  that  destruction  which  he  feared  would 
come  by  staying  with  them  in  the  City  of  Destruction. 
Wherefore,  as  I  then  showed  you,  he  left  them  and  departed. 

Now  it  hath  so  happened,  through  the  multiplicity  of  busi- 
ness, that  I  have  been  much  hindered  and  kept  back  from 
my  wonted  travels  into  those  parts  whence  he  went,  and  so 
could  not  till  now  obtain  an  opportunity  to  make  further 
inquiry  after  whom  he  left  behind,  that  I  might  give  you  an 
account  of  them.  But  having  had  some  concerns  that  way 
of  late,  I  went  down  again  thitherward.  Now,  having  taken 
up  my  lodgings  in  a  wood,  about  a  mile  off  the  place,  as  I 
slept  I  dreamed  again. 

And  as  I  was  in  my  dream,  behold,  an  aged  gentleman 
came  by  where  I  lay;  and  because  he  was  to  go  some  part  of 
the  way  that  I  was  travelling,  me  thought  I  got  up  and  went 
with  him.  So  as  we  walked,  and  as  travellers  usually  do,  I 
was  as  if  we  fell  into  discourse,  and  our  talk  happened  to  be 

179 


180  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

about  Christian  and  his  travels;  for  thus  I  began  with  the 
old  man: 

Sir,  said  I,  what  town  is  that  there  below,  that  lieth  on  the 
left  hand  of  our  way  ? 

Then  said  Mr.  Sagacity  (for  that  was  his  name),  It  is  the 
City  of  Destruction,  a  populous  place,  but  possessed  with  a 
very  ill-conditioned  and  idle  sort  of  people. 

I  thought  that  was  that  city,  quoth  I;  I  went  once  myself 
through  that  town,  and  therefore  know  that  this  report  you 
give  of  it  is  true. 

SAG.  Too  true,  I  wish  I  could  speak  truth  in  speaking 
better  of  them  that  dwell  therein. 

Well,  Sir,  quoth  I,  then  I  perceive  you  to  be  a  well-meaning 
man;  and  so  one  that  takes  pleasure  to  hear  and  tell  of  that 
which  is  good.  Pray,  did  you  never  hear  what  happened  to 
a  man  some  time  ago  in  this  town  (whose  name  was  Chris- 
tian) that  went  on  pilgrimage  up  towards  the  higher  regions  ? 

SAG.  Hear  of  him !  Ay,  and  I  also  heard  of  the  molesta- 
tions, troubles,  wars,  captivities,  cries,  groans,  frights,  and 
fears  that  he  met  with,  and  had  in  his  journey.  Besides,  I 
must  tell  you,  all  our  country  rings  of  him;  there  are  but  few 
houses  that  have  heard  of  him  and  his  doings  but  have  sought 
after  and  got  the  records  of  his  pilgrimage;  yea,  I  think  I 
Christians  are  may  say  t*iat  his  hazardous  journey  has  got 
well  spoken  of  a  many  well-wishers  to  his  ways;  for  though, 

when  gone,  tho'  . 

called  fools  while    when  he  was  here,  he  was  tool  in  every  man  s 

they  are  here.  ,  ,       .  ,       .     ,  .    ,  , 

mouth,  yet,  now  he  is  gone,  he  is  highly  com- 
mended of  all.  For,  'tis  said  he  lives  bravely  where  he  is; 
yea,  many  of  them  that  are  resolved  never  to  run  his  hazards, 
yet  have  their  mouths  water  at  his  gains. 

They  may,  quoth  I,  well  think,  if  they  think  anything  that 
is  true,  that  he  liveth  well  where  he  is;  for  he  now  lives  at 
and  in  the  Fountain  of  Life,  and  has  what  he  has  without 
labor  and  sorrow,  for  there  is  no  grief  mixed  therewith. 

SAG.     Talk !  the  people  talk  strangely  about  him.     Some 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  181 

say  that  he  now  walks  in  white,  that  he  has  a  chain  of  gold 

about  his  neck,  that  he  has  a  crown  of  gold, 

Chap*lvi*ii.        beset  with  pearls,  upon  his  head.     Others  say 

that  the  Shining  Ones,  that  sometimes  showed 

themselves  to  him  in  his  journey,  are  become  his  companions, 

and  that  he  is  as  familiar  with  them  in  the  place  where  he  is, 

as  here  one  neighbor  is  with  another.     Besides,  'tis  confi- 

...  dently  affirmed  concerning  him,  that  the  King 

of  the  place  where  he  is  has  bestowed  on  him 

already  a  very  rich  and  pleasant  dwelling  at 

court;   and  that  he   every  day   eateth  and    drinketh,   and 

walketh,  and  talketh  with  him;    and  receiveth  of  the  smiles 

and  favors  of  him  that  is  Judge  of  all  there.     Moreover,  it 

is  expected  of  some,  that  his  Prince,  the  Lord  of  that  country, 

will  shortly  come  into  these  parts,  and  will  know  the  reason, 

if  they  can  give  any,  why  his  neighbors  set  so  little  by  him, 

and  had  him  so  much  in  derision  when  they  perceived  that 

Jude  14  is          ke  WOU^  ke  a  pilgrim.     For  they  say,  that  now 

he  is  so  in  the  affections  of  his  Prince,  and  that 

Christian  s  King         .  .  . 

will  take  his  Sovereign  is  so  much  concerned  with  the 

Christian  s  part.      .     ,.       .   .          .  ~      .      . 

indignities  that  were  cast  upon  Christian  when 
he  became  a  pilgrim,  that  he  will  look  upon  all 
as  if  done  unto  himself;  and  no  marvel,  for  'twas  for  the  love 
that  he  had  to  his  Prince  that  he  ventured  as  he  did. 

I  dare  say,  quoth  I,  I  am  glad  on't;  I  am  glad  for  the  poor 

.  man's  sake,  for  that  now  he  has  rest  from  his 

labor,  and  for  that  he  now  reapeth  the  benefit 

of  his  tears  with  joy;  and  for  that  he  has  got 

beyond  the  gunshot  of  his  enemies,  and  is  out  of  the  reach  of 

them  that  hate  him.     I  also  am  glad  for  that  a  rumor  of 

these  things  is  noised  abroad  in  this  country;  who  can  tell 

but  that  it  may  work  some  good  effect  on  some  that  are  left 

behind  ?     But  pray,  Sir,  while  it  is  fresh  in  my  mind,  do  you 

hear  anything   of  his   wife  and   children?     Poor  hearts,   I 

wonder  in  my  mind  what  they  do ! 


182  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

SAG.     Who  ?  Christiana  and  her  sons  ?     They  are  like  to 

do  as  well  as  did  Christian  himself;  for  though  they  all  played 

the  fool  at  the  first,  and  would  bv  no  means  be 

Good  tidings  of 

Christians  wife  persuaded  by  either  the  tears  or  entreaties  of 
Christian,  yet  second  thoughts  have  wrought 
wonderfully  with  them;  so  they  have  packed  up,  and  are  also 
gone  after  him. 

Better  and  better,  quoth  I:  but  what!  wife  and  children 
and  all  ? 

SAG.  'Tis  true:  I  can  give  you  an  account  of  the  matter, 
for  I  was  upon  the  spot  at  the  instant,  and  was  thoroughly 
acquainted  with  the  whole  affair. 

Then,  said  I,  a  man  it  seems  may  report  it  for  a  truth  ? 

SAG.  You  need  not  fear  to  affirm  it,  I  mean  that  they  are 
all  gone  on  pilgrimage,  both  the  good  woman  and  her  four 
boys.  And  being  we  are,  as  I  perceive,  going  some  consider- 
able way  together,  I  will  give  you  an  account  of  the  whole 
matter. 

This  Christiana  (for  that  was  her  name  from  the  day  that 

she  with  her  children  betook  themselves  to  a  pilgrim's  life) 

after  her  husband  was  gone  over  the  river,  and 

Part  I.  page  194. 

she  could  hear  or  him  no  more,  her  thoughts 
began  to  work  in  her  mind.  First,  for  that  she  had  lost  her 
husband,  and  for  that  the  loving  bond  of  that  relation  was 
utterly  broken  betwixt  them.  For  you  know,  said  he  to  me, 
nature  can  do  no  less  but  entertain  the  living  with  many  a 
heavy  cogitation  in  the  remembrance  of  the  loss  of  loving 
relations.  This  therefore  of  her  husband  did  cost  her  many 

a  tear.  But  this  was  not  all,  for  Christiana  did 
that  kJe  Churls  to  also  begin  to  consider  with  herself,  whether  her 
Tdaticm*lv  unbecoming  behavior  towards  her  husband  was 

not  one  cause  that  she  saw  him  no  more,  and 
that  in  such  sort  he  was  taken  away  from  her.  And  upon 
this  came  into  her  mind,  by  swarms,  all  her  unkind,  unnatural, 
and  ungodly  carriages  to  her  dear  friend;  which  also  clogged 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  183 

her  conscience,  and  did  load  her  with  guilt.  She  was  more- 
over much  broken  with  calling  to  remembrance  the  restless 
groans,  brinish  tears,  and  self-bemoanings  of  her  husband, 
and  how  she  did  harden  her  heart  against  all  his  entreaties, 
and  loving  persuasions  (of  her  and  her  sons)  to  go  with  him; 
yea,  there  was  not  anything  that  Christian  either  said  to  her, 
or  did  before  her,  all  the  while  that  his  burden  did  hang  on 
his  back,  but  it  returned  upon  her  like  a  flash  of  lightning, 

and    rent    the   caul    of    her   heart   in   sunder. 

Specially  that  bitter  outcry  of  his,  "What 
shall  I  do  to  be  saved?"  did  ring  in  her  ears  most  dolefully. 
Then  said  she  to  her  children,  Sons,  we  are  all  undone.  I 
have  sinned  away  your  father,  and  he  is  gone :  he  would  have 
had  us  with  him;  but  I  would  not  go  myself,  I  also  have  hin- 
dered you  of  life.  With  that  the  boys  fell  all  into  tears,  and 
cried  out  to  go  after  their  father.  Oh !  said  Christiana,  that 
it  had  been  but  our  lot  to  go  with  him,  then  had  it  fared  well 
with  us  beyond  what  'tis  like  to  do  now;  for  though  I  formerly 
imagined  concerning  the  troubles  of  your  father,  that  they 
proceeded  of  a  foolish  fancy  that  he  had,  or  for  that  he  was 
overrun  with  melancholy  humors;  yet  now  'twill  not  out  of 

my  mind  but  that  they  sprang  from  another 

James  i.  23-25.  J  i        T  •   T          <«i-i 

cause,  to  wit,  for  that  the  Light  or  light  was 
given  him,  by  the  help  of  which,  as  I  perceive,  he  has  escaped 
the  snares  of  death.  Then  they  all  wept  again,  and  cried 
out,  Oh !  woe  worth  the  day  ! 

The  next  night  Christiana  had  a  dream;  and  behold,  she 

saw  as  if  a  broad  parchment  was  opened  before  her,  in  which 

were  recorded  the  sum  of  her  ways;  and  the 

Christiana  s 

dream.  times,  as  she  thought,  looked  very  black  upon 

her.  Then  she  cried  out  aloud  in  her  sleep, 
"Lord  have  mercy  upon  me,  a  sinner";  and  the  little  chil- 
dren heard  her. 

After  this  she  thought  she  saw  two  very  ill-favored  ones 
standing  by  her  bedside,  and  saying,  What  shall  we  do  with 


184  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

this  woman  ?  for  she  cries  out  for  mercy  waking  and  sleeping; 

if  she  be  suffered  to  go  on  as  she  begins,  we 
this  is  the  shall  lose  her  as  we  have  lost  her  husband. 

ce          Wherefore  we  must,  by  one  way  or  other,  seek 

to  take  her  off  from  the  thoughts  of  what  shall 
be  hereafter,  else  all  the  world  cannot  help  it  but  she  will 
become  a  pilgrim. 

Now  she  awoke  in  a  great  sweat,  also  a  trembling  was 
upon  her,  but  after  a  while  she  fell  to  sleeping  again.     And 

then  she  thought  she  saw  Christian  her  hus- 
^iscouragement.  band  in  a  place  of  bliss  among  many  immortals, 

with  a  harp  in  his  hand,  standing  and  playing 
upon  it  before  One  that  sat  on  a  throne  with  a  rainbow  about 
his  head.  She  saw  also  as  if  he  bowed  his  head  with  his  face 
to  the  paved  work  that  was  under  the  Prince's  feet,  saying, 
I  heartily  thank  my  Lord  and  King  for  bringing  of  me  into 
this  place.  Then  shouted  a  company  of  them  that  stood 
round  about,  and  harped  with  their  harps;  but  no  man  living 
could  tell  what  they  said,  but  Christian  and  his  companions. 
Next  morning  when  she  was  up,  had  prayed  to  God,  and 
talked  with  her  children  a  while,  one  knocked  hard  at  the 
Convictions  door,  to  whom  she  spake  out,  saying,  If  thou 

seconded  with        comest  in  God's  name,  come  in.     So  he  said, 

Jresh  tidings  of 

God's  readiness  Amen,  and  opened  the  door,  and  saluted  her 
with  Peace  be  to  this  house.  The  which  when 
he  had  done,  he  said,  Christiana,  knowest  thou  wherefore  I 
am  come?  Then  she  blushed  and  trembled,  also  her  heart 
began  to  wax  warm  with  desires  to  know  whence  he  came, 
and  what  was  his  errand  to  her.  So  he  said  unto  her,  my 
name  is  Secret,  I  dwell  with  those  that  are  high.  It  is  talked 
of  where  I  dwell,  as  if  thou  hadst  a  desire  to  go  thither;  also 
there  is  a  report  that  thou  art  aware  of  the  evil  thou  hast 
formerly  done  to  thy  husband,  in  hardening  of  thy  heart 
against  his  way,  and  in  keeping  of  these  thy  babes  in  their 
ignorance.  Christiana,  the  Merciful  One  has  sent  me  to  tell 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  185 

thee  that  he  is  a  God  ready  to  forgive,  and  that  he  taketh 
delight  to  multiply  to  pardon  offenses.  He  also  would  have 
thee  know  that  he  inviteth  thee  to  come  into  his  presence,  to 
his  table,  and  that  he  will  feed  thee  with  the  fat  of  his  house, 
and  with  the  heritage  of  Jacob  thy  father. 

There  is  Christian  thy  husband,  that  was,  with  legions  more 
his  companions,  ever  beholding  that  face  that  doth  minister 
life  to  beholders;  and  they  will  all  be  glad  when  they  shall 
hear  the  sound  of  thy  feet  step  over  thy  Father's  threshold. 
Christiana  at  this  was  greatly  abashed  in  herself,  and  bow- 
ing her  head  to  the  ground,  this  Visitor  proceeded  and  said, 
Christiana,  here  is  also  a  letter  for  thee,  which 
I  have  brought  from  thy  husband's  King.     So 
she  took  it  and  opened  it,  but  it  smelt  after  the  manner  of 
the  best  perfume,  also  it  was  written  in  letters  of  gold.     The 
contents  of  the  letter  was:  "That  the  King  would  have  her 
do  as  did  Christian  her  husband;  for  that  was  the  way  to 
come  to  his  city,  and  to  dwell  in  his  presence 
ovJrcom™ 9uite     with  J°y  forever."     At  this  the  good  woman 
was  quite  overcome;  so  she  cried  out  to  her 
Visitor,  Sir,  will  you  carry  me  and  my  children  with  you, 
that  we  also  may  go  and  worship  this  King? 

Then  said  the  Visitor,  Christiana,  the  bitter  is  before  the 
sweet:  thou  must  through  troubles,  as  did  he  that  went  be- 
fore thee,  enter  this  Celestial  City.     Wherefore 
instruction  I  advise  thee  to  do  as  did  Christian  thy  hus- 

band. Go  to  the  Wicket-gate  yonder,  over  the 
plain,  for  that  stands  in  the  head  of  the  way  up  which 
thou  must  go,  and  I  wish  thee  all  good  speed.  Also  I  advise 
that  thou  put  this  letter  in  thy  bosom ;  that  thou  read  therein 
to  thyself  and  to  thy  children,  until  you  have  got  it  by  rote- 
of-heart,  for  it  is  one  of  the  songs  that  thou 

Ps.  cxix.  54.  1.1  . 

must  sing  while  thou  art  in  this  house  of  thy 

pilgrimage;  also  this  thou  must  deliver  in  at  the  further  gate. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  this  old  gentleman,  as  he 


186  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

told  me  this  story,  did  himself  seem  to  be  greatly  affected 
therewith.     He  moreover  proceeded  and  said, 

Christiana  prays  . 

well  for  her  So  Christiana  called  her  sons  together,  and 

began  thus  to  address  herself  unto  them:  My 
sons,  I  have,  as  you  may  perceive,  been  of  late  under  much 
exercise  in  my  soul  about  the  death  of  your  father;  not  for 
that  I  doubt  at  all  of  his  happiness,  for  I  am  satisfied  now 
that  he  is  well.  I  have  also  been  much  affected  with  the 
thoughts  of  mine  own  state  and  yours,  which  I  verily  believe 
is  by  nature  miserable.  My  carriages  also  to  your  father  in 
his  distress,  is  a  great  load  to  my  conscience;  for  I  hardened 
both  my  own  heart  and  yours  against  him,  and  refused  to 
go  with  him  on  pilgrimage. 

The  thoughts  of  these  things  would  now  kill  me  outright, 
but  that  for  a  dream  which  I  had  last  night,  and  but  that  for 
the  encouragement  that  this  stranger  has  given  me  this 
morning.  Come,  my  children,  let  us  pack  up,  and  begone 
to  the  gate  that  leads  to  the  Celestial  Country,  that  we  may 
see  your  father,  and  be  with  him  and  his  companions  in 
peace,  according  to  the  laws  of  that  land. 

Then  did  her  children  burst  out  into  tears  for  joy  that  the 
heart  of  their  mother  was  so  inclined.  So  their  Visitor  bid 
them  farewell;  and  they  began  to  prepare  to  set  out  for  their 
journey. 

But  while  they  were  thus  about  to  be  gone,  two  of  the 

women  that  were  Christiana's  neighbors  came  up  to  her 

house  and  knocked  at  her  door.     To  whom  she 

^nwwTgtun™     said  as  before,  If  you  come  in  God's  name,  come 

neighbors  m-     At  this  the  women  were  stunned,  for  this 

kind  of  language  they  used  not  to  hear,  or  to 

perceive  to  drop  from  the  lips  of  Christiana.     Yet  they  came 

in :  but,  behold,  they  found  the  good  woman  a-preparing  to  be 

gone  from  her  house. 

So  they  began  and  said,  Neighbor,  pray  what  is  your  mean- 
ing by  this? 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  187 

Christiana  answered  and  said  to  the  eldest  of  them,  whose 
name  was  Mrs.  Timorous,  I  am  preparing  for  a  journey. 
(This    Timorous    was    daughter   to    him    that 
met  Christian  upon    the  Hill  Difficulty,   and 
would  have  had  him  gone  back  for  fear  of  the  lions.) 
TIM.     For  what  journey,  I  pray  you  ? 

Timorous  comes  CHRTS.       Even  tO  %°  afteF  m^  ^°°d  huS*>and. 

to  visit  And  with  that  she  fell  a-weeping. 

Christiana,  with  i          .    i  , 

Mercy,  one  of  IiM.     I  hope  not  so,  good  neighbor;  pray, 

her  neighbors.  „  i  M  j         >  i  i 

for  your  poor  children  s  sakes,  do  not  so  un- 
womanly cast  away  yourself. 

CHRIS.  Nay,  my  children  shall  go  with  me;  not  one  of 
them  is  willing  to  stay  behind. 

TIM.  I  wonder,  in  my  very  heart,  what,  or  who  has 
brought  you  into  this  mind. 

CHRIS.  O  neighbor,  knew  you  but  as  much  as  I  do,  I 
doubt  not  but  that  you  would  go  with  me. 

TIM.  Prithee,  what  new  knowledge  hast  thou  got,  that 
so  worketh  off  thy  mind  from  thy  friends,  and  that  tempteth 
thee  to  go  nobody  knows  where? 

CHRIS.     Then    Christiana    replied,    I    have    been    sorely 

afflicted  since  my  husband's  departure  from  me,  but  specially 

since  he  went  over  the  river.     But  that  which 

Death. 

troubleth  me  most,  is  my  churlish  carriages  to 
him  when  he  was  under  his  distress.  Besides,  I  am  now  as 
he  was  then;  nothing  will  serve  me  but  going  on  pilgrimage. 

1  was  a-dreaming  last  night  that  I  saw  him.     O  that  my  soul 
was  with  him !     He  dwelleth  in  the  presence  of  the  King  of 
the  country,  he  sits  and  eats  with  him  at  his  table,  he  is  be- 
come a  companion  of  immortals,   and   has  a 

2  Cor.  v.  1-4. 

house  now  given  him  to  dwell  in,  to  which  the 
best  palaces  on  earth,  if  compared,  seem  to  me  to  be  but  as 
a  dunghill.  The  Prince  of  the  place  has  also  sent  for  me, 
with  promise  of  entertainment  if  I  shall  come  to  him;  his 
messenger  was  here  even  now,  and  lias  brought  me  a  letter, 


188  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

which  invites  me  to  come.  And  with  that  she  plucked  out 
her  letter,  and  read  it,  and  said  to  them,  What  now  will  ye 
say  to  this? 

TIM.     Oh  the  madness  that  has  possessed  thee  and  thy 
husband,  to  run  yc  arselves  upon  such  difficulties  !     You  have 

heard,  I  am  sure,  what  your  husband  did  meet 
pages\2-i7  with,  even  in  a  manner  at  the  first  step  that  he 

took  on  his  way,  as  our  Neighbor  Obstinate  can 
yet  testify,  for  he  went  along  with  him;  yea,  and  Pliable  too, 
until  they,  like  wise  men,  were  afraid  to  go  any  farther.  We 
also  heard  over  and  above,  how  he  met  with  the  lions,  Apol- 
lyon,  the  Shadow  of  Death,  and  many  other  things.  Nor  is 
the  danger  that  he  met  with  at  Vanity  Fair  to  be  forgotten 
by  thee;  for  if  he,  though  a  man,  was  so  hard  put  to  it,  what 

canst  thou,  being  but  a  poor  woman,  do  ?     Con- 

s    sider  also  that  these  four  sweet  babes  are  tny 

children,  thy  flesh  and  thy  bones.  Wherefore, 
though  thou  shouldest  be  so  rash  as  to  cast  away  thyself,  yet, 
for  the  sake  of  the  fruit  of  thy  body,  keep  thou  at  home. 

But  Christiana  said  unto  her,  Tempt  me  not,  my  neighbor. 
I  have  now  a  price  put  into  mine  hand  to  get  gain,  and  I 

should  be  a  fool  of  the  greatest  size  if  I  should 

A  pertinent  reply  .,..,, 

to  fleshly  have  no  heart  to  strike  in  with  the  opportunity. 

And  for  that  you  tell  me  of  all  these  troubles 
that  I  am  like  to  meet  with  in  the  way,  they  are  so  far  off 
from  being  to  me  a  discouragement,  that  they  show  I  am  in 
the  right.  The  bitter  must  come  before  the  sweet,  and  that 
also  will  make  the  sweet  the  sweeter.  Wherefore,  since  you 
came  not  to  my  house  in  God's  name,  as  I  said,  I  pray  you  to 
be  gone,  and  not  to  disquiet  me  further. 

Then  Timorous  also  reviled  her,  and  said  to  her  fellow, 
Come,  Neighbor  Mercy,  let's  leave  her  in  her  own  hands,  I 
since  she  scorns  our  counsel  and  company.     But  Mercy  was  | 
at  a  stand,  and  could  not  so  readily  comply  with  her  neigh- 
bor, and  that  for  a  twofold  reason.     First,  her  bowels  yearned 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  189 

over  Christiana:  so  she  said  within  herself,  If  my  neighbor 

will  needs  be  gone,  I  will  go  a  little  way  with 
yearn  over  her  and  help  her.  Secondly,  her  bowels 

yearned  over  her  own  soul  (for  what  Christiana 
had  said  had  taken  some  hold  upon  her  mind).  Wherefore 
she  said  within  herself  again,  I  will  yet  have  more  talk  with 
this  Christiana,  and  if  I  find  truth  and  life  in  what  she  shall 
say,  myself  with  my  heart  shall  also  go  with  her.  Wherefore 
Mercy  began  thus  to  reply  to  her  Neighbor  Timorous : 

MERCY.     Neighbor,  I  did  indeed  come  with  you  to  see 

Christiana  this  morning;  and  since  she  is,  as 
jb*«o2H«r,  but  you  see,  a-taking  of  her  last  farewell  of  her 
foxier  cleaves  country,  I  think  to  walk  this  sunshine  morning 

a  little  way  with  her  to  help  her  on  the  way. 
But  she  told  her  not  of  her  second  reason,  but  kept  that  to 
herself. 

TIM.  Well,  I  see  you  have  a  mind  to  go  a-fooling  too,  but 
take  heed  in  time  and  be  wise :  while  we  are  out  of  danger,  we 

are  out:  but  when  we  are  in,  we  are  in.     So 

Timorous 

acquaints  her         Mrs.    Timorous    returned    to   her   house,    and 

friends  what  the  ,      .  _ 

good  Christiana  Christiana  betook  herself  to  her  journey.  .But 
when  Timorous  was  got  home  to  her  house,  she 
sends  for  some  of  her  neighbors,  to  wit,  Mrs.  Bat's-eyes,  Mrs. 
Inconsiderate,  Mrs.  Light-mind,  and  Mrs.  Know-nothing. 
So  when  they  were  come  to  her  house,  she  falls  to  telling  of 
the  story  of  Christiana  and  of  her  intended  journey.  And 
thus  she  began  her  tale: 

TIM.  Neighbors,  having  had  little  to  do  this  morning,  I 
went  to  give  Christiana  a  visit ;  and  when  I  came  at  the  door, 
I  khocked,  as  you  know  'tis  our  custom.  And  she  answered, 
If  you  come  in  God's  name,  come  in.  So  in  I  went,  thinking 
all  was  well.  But  when  I  came  in,  I  found  her  preparing  her- 
self to  depart  the  town,  she  and  also  her  children.  So  I  asked 
her  what  was  her  meaning  by  that;  and  she  told  me  in  short, 
that  she  was  now  of  a  mind  to  go  on  pilgrimage,  as  did  her 


190  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

husband.  She  told  me  also  a  dream  that  she  had,  and  how 
the  King  of  the  country  where  her  husband  was,  had  sent 
her  an  inviting  letter  to  come  thither. 

Then  said  Mrs.  Know-nothing,  And  what  ! 

nolhinKgn™~  d°  y°U  think  she  wiil  f°  ? 

TIM.  Ay,  go  she  will,  whatever  come  on't: 
and  me  thinks  I  know  it  by  this,  for  that  which  was  my 
great  argument  to  persuade  her  to  stay  at  home  (to  wit, 
the  troubles  she  was  like  to  meet  with  in  the  way)  is  one 
great  argument  with  her  to  put  her  forward  on  her  journey. 
For  she  told  me  in  so  many  words,  The  bitter  goes  before 
the  sweet;  yea,  and  forasmuch  as  it  so  doth,  it  makes  the 
sweet  the  sweeter. 

MRS.     BAT'S-EYES.     Oh  this  blind  and  foolish  woman  ! 

said  she;  will  she  not  take  warning  by  her  husband's  afflic- 

tions ?     For   my  part,   I  see,   if  he  was  here 

Mrs.  Bats-eyes.  \  . 

again,  he  would  rest  him  content  in  a  whole 
skin,  and  never  run  so  many  hazards  for  nothing. 

Mrs.  Inconsiderate  also  replied,  saying:  Away  with  such 
fantastical  fools  from  the  town  !     A  good  riddance,  for  my 

part,  I  say,  of  her.  Should  she  stay  where  she 
Inconsiderate.  dwells  and  retain  this  her  mind,  who  could  live 

quietly  by  her  ?  for  she  will  either  be  dumpish 
or  unneighborly,  or  talk  of  such  matters  as  no  wise  body  can 
abide:  Wherefore,  for  my  part,  I  shall  never  be  sorry  for  her 
departure;  let  her  go,  and  let  better  come  in  her  room:  'twas 
never  a  good  world  since  these  whimsical  fools  dwelt  in  it. 

Then  Mrs.  Light-mind  added  as  folio  we  th: 
Light-mind.  Come,  put  this  kind  of  talk  away.  I  was 
Madam  Wanton,  yesterday  at  Madam  Wanton's,  where  we  were 
i  ltoo  as  merry  as  the  maids.  For  who  do  you  think 


.  should  be  there,  but  I  and  Mrs.  Love-the-flesh, 

Faithful  in  time 

past.  and   three   or   four  more,  with  Mr.   Lechery, 

Mrs.  Filth,  and  some  others.     So  there  we  had 

music  and  dancing,  and  what  else  was  meet  to  fill  up  the 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  191 

pleasure.     And  I  dare  say  my  lady  herself  is  an  admirably 

well-bred  gentlewoman,  and  Mr.  Lechery  is  as  pretty  a  fellow. 

By  this  time  Christiana  was  got  on  her  way,  and  Mercy  went 

along  with  her.  So  as  they  went,  her  children 
betwixt r Mercy  being  there  also,  Christiana  began  to  discourse. 
Thriftiwa.  And»  Mercy,  said  Christiana,  I  take  this  as  an 

unexpected  favor,  that  thou  shouldest  set  foot 

out-of-doors  with  me,  to  accompany  me  a  little  on  my  way. 

MERCY.     Then  said  young  Mercy  (for  she 

Mercy  Mines       wag  but  young),  If  I  thought  it  would  be  to 

purpose  to  go  with  you,  I  would  never  go  near 
the  town  any  more. 

CHRIS.     Well,   Mercy,    said   Christiana,    cast   in   thy   lot 
with  me:  I  well  know  what  will  be  the  end  of  our  pilgrimage; 

my  husband  is  where  he  would  not  but  be  for 
CwMhnave  all  the  gold  in  the  Spanish  mines.  Nor  shalt 

withnherhb°r          tnou  ^  rejected,  though  thou  goest  but  upon 

my  invitation.  The  King  who  hath  sent  for 
me  and  my  children  is  one  that  delighteth  in  mercy.  Besides, 
if  thou  wilt,  I  will  hire  thee,  and  thou  shalt  go  along  with  me 
as  my  servant;  yet  we  will  have  all  things  in  common  betwixt 
thee  and  me;  only  go  along  with  me. 

MERCY.     But  how  shall  I  be  ascertained  that  I  also  shall 

be  entertained?     Had  I  this  hope,   but  from 

McepLwbtS  °f      °ne  that  Can  tell»  J  W0uld  make  n°  Stick  at  all» 

but  would  go,  being  helped  by  him  that  can 
help,  though  the  way  was  never  so  tedious. 

CHRIS.     Well,  loving  Mercy,  I  will  tell  thee  what  thou 

shalt  do:  Go  with  me  to  the  Wicket-gate,  and  there  I  will 

further  inquire  for  thee;  and  if  there  thou  shalt 

Christiana  n 

allures  her  to  the    not  meet  with  encouragement,  I  will  be  content 

gate,  which  is  ..  TIMI 

Christ,  and  that  thou  shalt  return  to  thy  place.     I  also  will 

uZuire  pay  thee  for  thy  kindness  which  thou  showest 

to  me  and  my  children,  in  thy  accompanying 
of  us  in  our  way,  as  thou  dost. 


192  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

MERCY.     Then  will  I  go  thither,  and  will  take  what  shall 
follow;  and  the  Lord  grant  that  my  lot  may 

Mercy  prays.  °  * 

there  fall,  even  as  the  King  of  heaven  shall 
have  his  heart  upon  me. 

Christiana  then  was  glad  at  her  heart,  not  only  that  she 
had  a  companion,  but  also  for  that  she  had 

Christiana  glad 

of  Mercy  s  prevailed  with  this  poor  maid  to  fall  in  love 

with  her  own  salvation.  So  they  went  on  to- 
gether, and  Mercy  began  to  weep.  Then  said  Christiana, 
Wherefore  weepeth  my  sister  so? 

MERCY.     Alas!  said  she,  who  can  but  lament  that  shall 
but  rightly  consider  what  a  state  and  condition 

Mercy  grieves  .  .  . 

for  her  carnal        my  poor  relations  are  in,  that  yet  remain  in  our 
sinful  town  ?     And  that  which  makes  my  grief 
the  more  heavy,  is,  because  they  have  no  instructor,  nor  any 
to  tell  them  what  is  to  come. 

CHRIS.  Bowels  becometh  pilgrims;  and  thou  dost  for  thy 
friends  as  my  good  Christian  did  for  me  when  he  left  me;  he 
Christians  mourned  .for  that  I  would  not  heed  nor  regard 

prayers  were          him,  but  his  Lord  and  ours  did  gather  up  his 

answered  for  his  . 

relations  after        tears  and  put  them  into  his  bottle;  and  now 

both  I,  and  thou,  and  these  my  sweet  babes, 

are  reaping  the  fruit  and  benefit  of  them.     I  hope,  Mercy, 

these  tears  of  thine  will  not  be  lost;  for  the  truth  hath  said, 

that   "They  that  sow  in  tears  shall  reap   in 

Ps.  cxxvi.  5,  6.  .          .  , 

joy,     in  singing.     And      he  that  goeth  forth 
and  weepeth,   bearing  precious  seed,   shall  doubtless  come 
again  with  rejoicing,  bringing  his  sheaves  with  him." 
Then  said  Mercy: 

Let  the  Most  Blessed  be  my  guide, 

If't  be  his  blessed  will, 
Unto  his  gate,  into  his  fold, 

Up  to  his  holy  hill. 
And  let  him  never  suffer  me 

To  swerve  or  turn  aside 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  193 

From  his  free  grace  and  holy  ways, 

Whate'er  shall  me  betide. 
And  let  him  gather  them  of  mine, 

That  I  have  left  behind; 
Lord,  make  them  pray  they  may  be  thine, 

With  all  their  heart  and  mind. 

Now  my  old  friend  proceeded  and  said:  But  when  Chris- 
tiana came  up  to  the  Slough  of  Despond,  she  began  to  be  at 
a  stand ;  for,  said  she,  This  is  the  place  in  which 
my  dear  husband  had  like  to  have  been  smoth- 
ered with  mud.     She  perceived  also,  that  not- 
withstanding the  command  of  the  King  to  make  this  place 
for  pilgrims  good,  yet  it  was  rather  worse  than  formerly.     So 
I  asked  if  that  was  true?     Yes,  said  the  old 
cokn1lu7onsarnal    gentleman,  too  true;  for  that  many  there  be 
w'orfoflife.        tlmt  Pretend  to  be  the  King's  laborers,  and  that 
say  they  are  for  mending  the  King's  highways, 
that  bring  dirt  and  dung  instead  of  stones,  and  so  mar  instead 
of  mending.     Here  Christiana  therefore,  with 
Eldest  latthe         her  boys,  did  make  a  stand.     But  said  Mercy, 
SD™ponf.  Come,   let  us  venture,   only  let   us   be  wary. 

Then  they  looked  well  to  the  steps,  and  made 
a  shift  to  get  staggeringly  over. 

Yet  Christiana  had  like  to  have  been  in,  and  that  not  once 
nor  twice.  Now  they  had  no  sooner  got  over,  but  they  thought 
they  heard  words  that  said  unto  them,  "Blessed 
is  she  that  believeth,  for  there  shall  be  a  per- 
formance of  the  things  that  have  been  told  her  from  the  Lord." 
Then  they  went  on  again;  and  said  Mercy  to  Christiana, 
Had  I  as  good  ground  to  hope  for  a  loving  reception  at  the 
Wicket-gate  as  you,  I  think  no  Slough  of  Despond  would 
discourage  me. 

Well,  said  the  other,  you  know  your  sore,  and  I  know  mine; 
and,  good  friend,  we  shall  all  have  enough  evil  before  we 
come  at  our  journey's  end. 


194  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

For  can  it  be  imagined,  that  the  people  that  design  to 
attain  such  excellent  glories  as  we  do,  and  that  are  so  envied 
that  happiness  as  we  are,  but  that  we  shall  meet  with  what 
fears  and  scares,  with  what  troubles  and  afflictions  they  can 
possibly  assault  us  with,  that  hate  us  ? 

And  now  Mr.  Sagacity  left  me  to  dream  out  my  dream  by 
myself.  Wherefore,  methought  I  saw  Christiana,  and  Mercy, 
and  the  boys,  go  all  of  them  up  to  the  gate;  to 
be 'made  wtik  which,  when  they  were  come,  they  betook  them- 
}™r^asawM™d  selves  to  a  short  debate  about  how  they  must 
in^futhand  manage  their  calling  at  the  gate,  and  what 
Part  I-  should  be  said  to  him  that  did  open  to  them. 

page  29. 

So  it  was  concluded,  since  Christiana  was  the 
eldest,  that  she  should  knock  for    entrance,  and  that  she 
should  speak  to  him  that  did  open,  for  the  rest.     So  Chris- 
tiana began  to  knock,  and  as  her  poor  husband 

The  dog,  the  °  . 

devil,  an  enemy      did,  she  knocked,  and  knocked  again.     But  in- 
stead of  any  that  answered,  they  all  thought 
that  they  heard  as  if  a  dog  came  barking  upon  them;  a  dog, 
and  a  great  one  too,  and  this  made  the  women  and  children 
afraid;  nor  durst  they  for  a  while  to  knock  any  more,  for  fear 
the  mastiff  should  fly  upon  them.     Now,  therefore,  they  were 
greatly  tumbled  up  and  down  in  their  minds, 

Christiana  x 

and  her  and  knew  not  what  to  do.     Knock  they  durst 

companions  111  i 

perplexed  about  not,  for  fear  of  the  dog;  go  back  they  durst  not, 
for  fear  that  the  Keeper  of  that  gate  should 
espy  them  as  they  so  went,  and  should  be  offended  with  them. 
At  last  they  thought  of  knocking  again,  and  knocked  more 
vehemently  than  they  did  at  the  first.  Then  said  the  Keeper 
of  the  gate,  Who  is  there  ?  So  the  dog  left  off  to  bark,  and 
he  opened  unto  them. 

Then  Christiana  made  low  obeisance,  and  said,  Let  not  our 
Lord  be  offended  with  his  handmaidens  for  that  we  have 
knocked  at  his  princely  gate.  Then  said  the  Keeper,  Whence 
come  ye,  and  what  is  that  you  would  have  ? 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  195 

Christiana  answered,  We  are  come  from  whence  Christian 
did  come,  and  upon  the  same  errand  as  he;  to  wit,  to  be,jf  it 
shall  please  you,  graciously  admitted  by  this  gate,  into  the 
way  that  leads  to  the  Celestial  City.  And  I  answer,  my 
Lord,  in  the  next  place,  that  I  am  Christiana,  once  the  wife 
of  Christian,  that  now  is  gotten  above. 

With  that  the  Keeper  of  the  gate  did  marvel,  saying,  What ! 
is  she  become  now  a  pilgrim,  that  but  a  while  ago  abhorred 
that  life?  Then  she  bowed  her  head,  and  said,  Yes,  and  so 
are  these,  my  sweet  babes,  also. 

Then  he  took  her  by  the  hand,  and  let  her  in,  and  said  also, 
"Suffer  the  little  children  to  come  unto  me";  and  with  that 

Haw  Christiana     ne  snut  up  tne  Sate-     ^his  done,  he  called  to  a 
is  entertained        trumpeter  that  was  above  over  the  gate,   to 

at  the  gate.  *     .  .      .  . 

entertain  Christiana  with  shouting  and  sound 
of  trumpet  for  joy.     So  he  obeyed  and  sounded, 
and  filled  the  air  with  his  melodious  notes. 

Now  all  this  while  poor  Mercy  did  stand  without,  trembling 
and  crying  for  fear  that  she  was  rejected.  But  when  Chris- 
tiana had  gotten  admittance  for  herself  and  her  boys,  then 
she  began  to  make  intercession  for  Mercy. 

CHRIS.     And  she  said,  My  Lord,  I  have  a  companion  of 

mine  that  stands  yet  without,  that  is  come  hither  upon  the 

same  account  as  myself;  one  that  is  much  de- 

Lhristianas  .  . 

prayer  for  her        jected  in  her  mind,  tor  that  she  comes,  as  she 
thinks,  without  sending  for,  whereas  I  was  sent 

to  by  my  husband's  King  to  come. 

Now  Mercy  began  to  be  very  impatient,  for  each  minute 

was  as  long  to  her  as  an  hour,  wherefore  she  prevented  Chris- 
tiana from  a  fuller  interceding  for  her,  by  knock- 

fc  hungering   &    mg  at  the  gate  herself.     And  she  knocked  then 

ferventer  so  ^oud,   that  she  made   Christiana   to   start. 

Then  said  the  Keeper  of  the  gate,  Who  is  there  ? 

and  said  Christiana,  It  is  my  friend. 

So  he  opened  the  gate,  and  looked  out;  but  Mercy  was 


196  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

fallen  down  without,  in  a  swoon,  for  she  fainted,  and  was 
afraid  that  no  gate  would  be  opened  to  her. 

Mercy  faints. 

Then  he  took  her  by  the  hand,  and  said, 
Damsel,  I  bid  thee  arise. 

Oh,  sir,  said  she,  I  am  faint;  there  is  scarce  life  left  in  me. 

But  he  answered,  That  one  once  said,  "When  my  soul  fainted 

within  me,  I  remembered  the  Lord,  and  my 

Jonah  n.  7. 

prayer  came  in  unto  thee,  into  thy  holy  tem- 
ple." Fear  not,  but  stand  upon  thy  feet,  and  tell  me  where- 
fore thou  art  come. 

MERCY.     I  am  come  for  that  unto  which  I 
her  fainting          was  never  invited,  as  my  friend  Christiana  was. 
Hers  was  from  the  King,  and  mine  was  but  from 
her:  wherefore  I  fear  I  presume. 

Did  she  desire  thee  to  come  with  her  to  this  place  ? 
MERCY.     Yes;  and  as  my  Lord  sees,  I  am  come.     And  if 
there  is  any  grace  or  forgiveness  of  sins  to  spare,  I  beseech 
that  I,  thy  poor  handmaid,  may  be  partaker  thereof. 

Then  he  took  her  again  by  the  hand,  and  led  her  gently 

in,  and  said,  I  pray  for  all  them  that  believe  on  me,  by  what 

means  soever  they  come  unto  me.     Then,  said 

he  to  those  that  stood  by,  Fetch  something,  and 

give  it  Mercy  to  smell  on,  thereby  to  stay  her  fainting.     So 

they  fetched  her  a  bundle  of  myrrh,  and  a  while  after  she 

was  revived. 

And  now  was  Christiana,  and  her  boys,  and  Mercy,  re- 
ceived of  the  Lord  at  the  head  of  the  way,  and  spoke  kindly 
unto  by  him. 

Then  said  they  yet  further  unto  him,  We  are  sorry  for  our 
sins,  and  beg  of  our  Lord  his  pardon,  and  further  information 
what  we  must  do. 

I  grant  pardon,  said  he,  by  word  and  deed: 
JoAn  */ 20          ky  word,  in  the  promise  of  forgiveness;  by  deed, 
in  the  way  I  obtained  it.     Take  the  first  from 
my  lips  with  a  kiss,  and  the  other  as  it  shall  be  revealed. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  197 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  he  spake  many  good  words 

unto  them,   whereby  they  were  greatly  gladded.     He  also 

had  them  up  to  the  top  of  the  gate,  and  showed 

CseernafCarUoff!ed       tnem   ^  wliat  deed  tliey   Were   SEVed,   and   told 

them  withal  that  that  sight  they  would  have 
again  as  they  went  along  in  the  way,  to  their  comfort. 

So  he  left  them  a  while  in  a  summer-parlor 
tffctlZL       below,  where  they  entered  into  talk  by  them- 
selves;  and  thus   Christiana  began:   O  Lord! 
how  glad  am  I,  that  we  are  got  in  hither ! 

MERCY.  So  you  wTell  may;  but  I,  of  all,  have  cause  to 
leap  for  joy. 

CHRIS.  I  thought,  one  time,  as  I  stood  a"u  the  gate  (be- 
cause I  had  knocked  and  none  did  answer)  that  all  our 
labor  had  been  lost;  specially  when  that  ugly  cur  made  such 
a  heavy  barking  at  us. 

MERCY.     But  my  worst  fear  was  after  I  saw  that  you  was 

taken  into  his  favor,   and  that  I  was  left  behind.     Now, 

thought  I,  'tis  fulfilled  which  is  written,  "Two 

Matt.  xxiv.  41.  . 

women  shall  be  grinding  together,  the  one 
shall  be  taken  and  the  other  left."  I  had  much  ado  to  for- 
bear crying  out,  Undone  !  undone  ! 

And  afraid  I  was  to  knock  any  more;  but  when  I  looked 

up  to  what  was  written  over  the  gate,  I  took 

*age\9.  courage.     I  also   thought  that  I  must  either 

knock  again,  or  die;  so  I  knocked,  but  I  cannot 

tell  how,  for  my  spirit  now  struggled  betwixt  life  and  death. 

CHRIS.     Can  you  not  tell  how  you  knocked  ? 

Christiana  thinks     -r  11  j.i      j.  j.i_ 

her  companion       I  &m  sure  your  knocks  wrere  so  earnest,  that  the 
SSsheUer  veiT  sound  of  them  made  me  start»  r  thought 

Matt  xi  12          ^  never  heard  such  knocking  in  all  my  life;  I 
thought  you  would  have  come   in  by  violent 
hands,  or  have  took  the  kingdom  by  storm. 

MERCY.  Alas,  to  be  in  my  case,  who  that  so  was  could 
but  have  done  so?  You  saw  that  the  door  was  shut  upon 


198  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

me,  and  that  there  was  a  most  cruel  dog  thereabout.  Who, 
I  say,  that  was  so  fainthearted  as  I,  that  would  not  have 
knocked  with  all  their  might?  But  pray  what  said  my 
Lord  to  my  rudeness  ?  Was  he  not  angry  with  me  ? 

CHRIS.     When    he    heard    your    lumbering 

Christ  pleased  ,  mj 

with  loud  and  noise,  he  gave  a  wonderful  innocent  smile;  I 
believe  what  you  did  pleased  him  well  enough, 
dtfirstS°did  know  for  he  showed  no  sign  to  the  contrary.  But  I 
"meet  within  its  marvel  in  my  heart  why  he  keeps  such  a  dog; 
%£%**  had  I  known  that  afore,  I  fear  I  should  not 

would  hardly         have  had  heart  enough  to  have  ventured  mv- 

ever  set  out.  , 

selr  in  this  manner.     But  now  we  are  in,  we 
are  in,  and  I  am  glad  with  all  my  heart. 

MERCY.  I  will  ask,  if  you  please,  next  time  he  comes 
down,  why  he  keeps  such  a  filthy  cur  in  his  yard.  I  hope 
he  will  not  take  it  amiss. 

Ay,  do,  said  the  children,  and  persuade  him 
i'ofTe  Tog.    to  hang  him,  for  we  are  afraid  he  will  bite  us 

when  we  go  hence. 
So  at  last  he  came  down  to  them  again,  and  Mercy  fell  to 
the  ground  on  her  face  before  him  and  worshipped,  and  said, 
Let  my  Lord  accept  of  the  sacrifice  of  praise  which  I  now 
offer  unto  him,  with  the  calves  of  my  lips. 

So  he  said  unto  her,  Peace  be  to  thee;  stand  up. 
But  she  continued  upon  her  face  and  said,   "Righteous 
,      ..  ,  art  thou,  O  Lord,  when  I  plead  with  thee,  yet 

Jer.  xii.  1. 

let    me    talk    with    thee    of    thy    judgments." 
expostulates  Wherefore  dost  thou  keep  so  cruel  a  dog  in  thy 

about  the  dog.  •,  .•,          •    i  ,       p       i  •   i  i 

yard,  at  the  sight  of  which,  such  women  and 
children  as  we,  are  ready  to  fly  from  thy  gate  for  fear  ? 

He  answered  and   said,   That  dog  has   an- 
other owner;  he  also  is  kept  close  in  another 
page  so.  man's  ground,  only  my  pilgrims  hear  his  bark- 

ing ;  he  belongs  to  the  castle  which  you  see  there 
at  a  distance,  but  can  come  up  to  the  walls  of  this  place.     He 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  199 

has  frighted  many  an  honest  pilgrim  from  worse  to  better,  by 
the  great  voice  of  his  roaring.  Indeed,  he  that  owneth  him 
doth  not  keep  him  of  any  good-will  to  me  or  mine,  but  with 
intent  to  keep  the  pilgrims  from  coming  to  me,  and  that 
they  may  be  afraid  to  knock  at  this  gate  for  entrance.  Some- 
times also  he  has  broken  out,  and  has  worried  some  that  I 
love;  but  I  take  all  at  present  patiently.  I 

A  check  to  the  ,  .  -111  ' 

earned  fear  of  also  give  my  pilgrims  timely  help,  so  they  are 
not  delivered  up  to  his  power,  to  do  to  them 
what  his  doggish  nature  would  prompt  him  to.  But  what ! 
my  purchased  one,  I  trow,  hadst  thou  known  never  so  much 
beforehand,  thou  wouldst  not  have  been  afraid  of  a  dog. 

The  beggars  that  go  from  door  to  door  will,  rather  than 
they  will  lose  a  supposed  alms,  run  the  hazard  of  the  bawl- 
ing, barking,  and  biting  too  of  a  dog;  and  shall  a  dog — a  dog 
in  another  man's  yard,  a  dog  whose  barking  I  turn  to  the 
profit  of  pilgrims — keep  any  from  coming  to  me  ?  I  deliver 
them  from  the  lions,  their  darling  from  the  power  of  the  dog. 
MERCY.  Then  said  Mercy,  I  confess  my 

Christians  when       .  T  i  i      .    T  i  i  T 

wise  enough          ignorance;  I  spake  what  I  understood  not;  I 
^iTwMomof       acknowledge  that  thou  doest  all  things  well. 

CHRIS.     Then  Christiana  began  to  talk  of 

arte  Jg  their  journey,  and  to  inquire  after  the  way. 

So  he  fed  them,  and  washed  their  feet,  and  set 

them  in  the  way  of  his  steps,  according  as  he  had  dealt  with 

her  husband  before. 

So  I  saw  in  my  dream  that  they  walked  on  their  way,  and 
had  the  weather  very  comfortable  to  them. 
Then  Christiana  began  to  sing,  saying:- — 

Bless 'd  be  the  day  that  I  began 

A  pilgrim  for  to  be; 
And  blessed  also  be  that  man 

That  thereto  moved  me. 
'Tis  true,  'twas  long  ere  I  began 

To  seek  to  live  forever: 


t 

fn 


200  THE   PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

But  now  I  run  fast  as  I  can; 

'Tis  better  late  than  never. 
Our  tears  to  joy,  our  fears  to  faith, 

Are  turned,  as  we  see; 
Thus  our  beginning  (as  one  saith) 

Shows  what  our  end  will  be. 


Now  there  was,  on  the  other  side  of  the  wall  that  fenced 
in  the  way  up  which  Christiana  and  her  companions  were  to 

go,  a  garden,  and  that  garden  belonged  to  him 
'garden11  S  whose  was  that  barking  dog  of  whom  mention 

was  made  before.  And  some  of  the  fruit-trees 
that  grew  in  that  garden  shot  their  branches  over  the  wall; 
and  being  mellow,  they  that  found  them  did  gather  them  up, 
and  oft  eat  of  them  to  their  hurt.  So  Christiana's  boys,  as 

boys  are  apt  to  do,   being  pleased  with  the 

The  children  eat  J 

)/  the  enemy  s  trees,  and  with  the  fruit  that  did  hang  thereon, 
did  plash  them,  and  began  to  eat.  Their 
mother  did  also  chide  them  for  so  doing,  but  still  the  boys 
went  on. 

Well,  said  she,  my  sons,  you  transgress,  for  that  fruit  is 
none  of  ours; — but  she  did  not  know  that  they  did  belong 
to  the  enemy;  I'll  warrant  you  if  she  had,  she  would  have 
been  ready  to  die  for  fear.  But  that  passed,  and  they  went 
on  their  way.  Now,  by  that  they  were  gone  about  two 
bows-shot  from  the  place  that  led  them  into  the  way,  they 
espied  two  very  ill-favored  ones  coming  down 
Two  ill-favored  apace  ^  meet  them  Witn  tnat  Christiana  and 

Mercy  her  friend  covered  themselves  with  their 
veils,  and  so  kept  on  their  journey;  the  children  also  went  on 
before;  so  that  at  last  they  met  together.  Then  they  that 
came  down  to  meet  them,  came  just  up  to  the  women  as  if 

they  would  embrace  them ;  but  Christiana  said, 
ChnstianaU  Stand  back,  or  go  peaceably  by  as  you  should. 

Yet  these  two,  as  men  that  are  deaf,  regarded 
not  Christiana's  words,  but  began  to  lay  hands  upon 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  201 

them.     At  that  Christiana,  waxing  very  wroth,  spurned  at 

them  with  her  feet.     Mercy  also,  as  well  as  she  could,  did 

what  she  could  to  shift  them.     Christiana  again 

Tf-e  pilgrims  ° 

struggle  said   to   them,  Stand   back,  and   be   gone,  tor 

with  them.  ,  ,  ,      .  ., 

we  have  no  money  to  lose,  being  pilgrims, 
as  ye  see,  and  such  too  as  live  upon  the  charity  of  our 
friends. 

ILL-FA v.  Then  said  one  of  the  two  of  the  men,  We  make 
no  assault  upon  you  for  money,  but  are  come  out  to  tell  you, 
that  if  you  will  but  grant  one  small  request  which  we  shall 
ask,  we  will  make  women  of  you  forever. 

CHRIS.  Now  Christiana,  imagining  what  they  should 
mean,  made  answer  again,  We  will  neither  hear  nor  regard, 
nor  yield  to  what  you  shall  ask.  We  are  in  haste,  cannot 
stay,  our  business  is  a  business  of  life  and  death.  So  again 
she  and  her  companions  made  a  fresh  assay  to  go  past  them, 
but  they  letted  them  in  their  way. 

ILL-FAV.  And  they  said,  We  intend  no  hurt  to  your  lives, 
'tis  another  thing  we  would  have. 

CHRIS.  Ah,  quoth  Christiana,  you  would  have  us  body 
and  soul,  for  I  know  'tis  for  that' you  are  come;  but  we  will 
die  rather  upon  the  spot  than  suffer  ourselves  to  be  brought 
into  such  snares  as  shall  hazard  our  well-being  hereafter. 
And  with  that  they  both  shrieked  out,  and  cried,  Murder! 
murder!  and  so  put  themselves  under  those 

khe  cries  out.  .  . 

Deut.  xxii.  laws  that  are  provided  for  the  protection  or 

23   £6    27 

women.  But  the  men  still  made  their  ap- 
proach upon  them,  with  design  to  prevail  against  them. 
They  therefore  cried  out  again. 

Now  they  being,  as  I  said,  not  far  from  the  gate  in  at 
which  they  came,  their  voice  was  heard  from 

Tis  good  to  cry  * 

out  when  we  are     where  they  were,  thither.      Vihereiore  some  of 

the  house  came  out,  and  knowing  that  it  was 

Christiana's  tongue,  they  made  haste  to  her  relief.     But  by 

that  they  were  got  within  sight  of  them  the  women  were  in  a 


202  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

very  great  scuffle,  the  children  also  stood  crying  by.     Then 
did  he  that  came  in  for  their   relief  call   out 
coh^diever         to  the  ruffians,  saying,  What  is  that  thing  that 
you  do?     Would  you  make   my  Lord's  peo- 
ple to  transgress?     He  also  attempted  to  take  them,  but 
they  did  make  their  escape  over  the  wall  into 

The  ill  ones  fly 

to  the  devil  the  garden  01  the  man  to  whom  the  great  dog 

belonged;  so  the  dog  became  their  protector. 
This  Reliever  then  came  up  to  the  women,  and  asked  them 
how  they  did.  So  they  answered,  We  thank  thy  Prince, 
pretty  well,  only  we  have  been  somewhat  affrighted;  we 
thank  thee  also,  for  that  thou  earnest  in  to  our  help,  for 
otherwise  we  had  been  overcome. 

REL.     So  after  a  few  more  words,  this  Reliever  said  as 

followeth:  I  marvelled  much  when  you  were  entertained  at 

the  gate  above,  being  ye  knew  that  ye  were 

talks  to  the  but  weak  women,  that  you  petitioned  not  the 

Lord  there  for  a  conductor;  then  might  you 

have  avoided  these  troubles  and  dangers,  for  he  would  have 

granted  you  one. 

CHRIS.     Alas !  said  Christiana,  we  were  so  taken  with  our 

present  blessing,  that  dangers  to   come  were  forgotten  by 

us;  besides,  who  could  have  thought  that  so 

near  the  King's  palace  there  should  have  lurked 

such  naughty  ones  ?     Indeed  it  had  been  well  for  us  had  we 

asked  our  Lord  for  one;  but  since  our  Lord  knew  'twould  be 

for  our  profit,  I  wonder  he  sent  not  one  along  with  us. 

REL.     It  is  not  always  necessary  to  grant  things  not  asked 

for,  lest  by  so  doing  they  become  of  little  esteem;  but  when 

the  want  of  a  thing  is  felt,  it  then  comes  under, 

We  lose  for  .  . 

want  of  asking  m  the  eyes  of  him  that  teels  it,  that  estimate 
that  properly  is  its  due,  and  so  consequently 
will  be  thereafter  used.  Had  my  Lord  granted  you  a  con- 
ductor, you  would  not  neither  so  have  bewailed  that  over- 
sight of  yours  in  not  asking  for  one,  as  now  you  have  occasion 


THE  PILGRIM'S   PROGRESS  203 


do.  So  all  things  work  for  good,  and  tend  to  make  you 
more  wary. 

CHRIS.  Shall  we  go  back  again  to  my  Lord,  and  confess 
our  folly,  and  ask  one? 

REL.  Your  confession  of  your  folly  I  will  present  him 
with.  To  go  back  again  you  need  not;  for  in  all  places  where 
you  shall  come,  you  will  find  no  want  at  all;  for  in  every  of 
my  Lord's  lodgings  which  he  has  prepared  for  the  reception 
of  his  pilgrims,  there  is  sufficient  to  furnish  them  against  all 
attempts  whatsoever.  .But,  as  I  said,  he  will  ba  inquired  of 
by  them  to  do  it  for  them :  and  'tis  a  poor  thing 

Ezek.  xxxvi.  37.          ^  «••>'•  t  TTI  i 

that  is  not  worth  asking  tor.  When  he  had 
thus  said,  he  went  back  to  his  place,  and  the  pilgrims  went 
on  their  way. 

MERCY.     Then  said  Mercy,  What  a  sudden 

ller^Stake°f      hlank  is  here!     *  made  account   we  had   now 
been    past    all    danger,   and    that  we   should 
never  see  sorrow  more. 

CHRIS.     Thy    innocency,    my   sister,    said    Christiana   to 

Mercy,  may  excuse  thee  much;  but  as  for  me,  my  fault  is  so 

much  the  greater,  for  that  I  saw  this  danger 

Christianas  before    j    came    Qut    Qf    ^    doQrs>    an(j    yet    di(j 

not  provide  for  it,  where  provision  might  have 
been  had.  I  am  therefore  much  to  be  blamed. 

MERCY.  Then  said  Mercy,  How  knew  you  this  before  you 
came  from  home  ?  Pray  open  to  me  this  riddle. 

CHRIS.     Why,  I  will  tell  you.     Before  I  set  foot  out-of- 
doors,  one  night,  as  I  lay  in  my  bed,  I  had  a  dream  about 
this;  for  methought  I  saw  two  men,  as  like 

drw^epeated.        tllese  as  6Ver  the  world  tney  Could  look,  stand 

at  my  bed's  feet,  plotting  how  they  might  pre- 
vent my  salvation.  I  will  tell  you  their  very  words.  They 
said  ('twas  when  I  was  in  my  troubles),  What  shall  we  do 
with  this  woman  ?  for  she  cries  out,  waking  and  sleeping,  for 
forgiveness :  if  she  be  suffered  to  go  on  as  she  begins,  we  shall 


204  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

lose  her  as  we  have  lost  her  husband.  This,  you  know,  might 
have  made  me  take  heed,  and  have  provided  when  provision 
might  have  been  had. 

MERCY.  Well,  said  Mercy,  as  by  this  neglect  we  have  an 
occasion  ministered  unto  us  to  behold  our  own  imperfections, 
so  our  Lord  has  taken  occasion  thereby  to  make 
manifest  the  riches  of  his  grace.  For  he,  as  we 
see,  has  followed  us  with  unasked  kindness,  and 
has  delivered  us  from  their  hands  that  were 
stronger  than  we,  of  his  mere  good  pleasure. 

Thus  now,  when  they  had  talked  away  a  little  more  time, 
they  drew  nigh  to  an  house  which  stood  in  the  way,  which 
house  was  built  for  the  relief  of  pilgrims ;  as  you 
page  33.  wil1  find  more  fully  related  in  the  First  Part 

of  these  records  of  the  Pilgrim's  Progress.  So 
they  drew  on  towards  the  house  (the  house  of  the  Interpreter) , 
and  when  they  came  to  the  door,  they  heard  a  great  talk  in 
the  house.  They  then  gave  ear,  and  heard,  as 
Interpreters  they  thought,  Christiana  mentioned  by  name. 
Christiana's  For  y°u  must  know  that  there  went  along,  even 
before  her,  a  talk  of  her  and  her  children's  going 
on  pilgrimage.  And  this  thing  was  the  more 
pleasing  to  them,  because  they  had  heard  that  she  was  Chris- 
tian's wife,  that  woman  who  was  some  time  ago  so  unwilling 
to  hear  of  going  on  pilgrimage.  Thus,  therefore,  they  stood 
still  and  heard  the  good  people  within  com- 
auhkendoor.  mending  her,  who  they  little  thought  stood  at 

The  door  is  tne  door.     At  last  Christiana  knocked  as  she 

opened  to  them       fo^  done  at  the  gate  before.     Now  when  she 

by  Innocent. 

had  knocked,  there  came  to  the  door  a  young 
damsel,  and  opened  the  door  and  looked,  and  behold  two 
women  were  there. 

DAMSEL.  Then  said  the  damsel  to  them,  With  whom 
would  you  speak  in  this  place  ? 

CHRIS.     Christiana  answered,  We  understand  that  this  is 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  205 

a  privileged  place  for  those  that  are  become  pilgrims,  and  we 
now  at  this  door  are  such;  wherefore  we  pray  that  we  may 
be  partakers  of  that  for  which  we  at  this  time  are  come;  for 
the  day,  as  thou  seest,  is  very  far  spent,  and  we  are  loath  to- 
night to  go  any  farther. 

DAMSEL.  Pray  what  may  I  call  your  name,  that  I  may 
tell  it  to  my  Lord  within  ? 

CHRIS.  My  name  is  Christiana;  I  was  the  wife  of  that 
pilgrim  that  some  years  ago  did  travel  this  way,  and  these  be 
his  four  children.  This  maiden  also  is  my  companion,  and 
is  going  on  pilgrimage  too. 

INNOCENT.  Then  ran  Innocent  in  (for  that  was  her  name) 
and  said  to  those  within,  Can  you  think  who  is  at  the  door  ? 
,  .  .,  There  is  Christiana  and  her  children,  and  her 

Joy  in  the 

house  of  the          companion,  all  waiting  for  entertainment  here. 

Interpreter  that 

Christiana  is         Then  they  leaped  for  joy,  and  went  and  told 

turned  pilgrim.         .,     .  r<       i  .1          i  i 

their  master.  So  he  came  to  the  door,  and 
looking  upon  her,  he  said,  Art  thou  that  Christiana  whom 
Christian,  the  goodman,  left  behind  him  when  he  betook 
himself  to  a  pilgrim's  life? 

CHRIS.  I  am  that  woman  that  was  so  hard-hearted  as  to 
slight  my  husband's  troubles,  and  that  left  him  to  go  on  in 
his  journey  alone,  and  these  are  his  four  children;  but  now  I 
also  am  come,  for  I  am  convinced  that  no  way  is  right  but 
this. 

INTER.  Then  is  fulfilled  that  which  also  is  written  of  the 
man  that  said  to  his  son,  Go,  work  to-day  in 

Matt.xxi.  29.  .  '          '  .  .„ 

my  vineyard:  and  he  said  to  his  rather,  1  will 
not;  but  afterwards  repented  and  went. 

CHRIS.  Then  said  Christiana,  So  be  it,  Amen.  God  make 
it  a  true  saying  upon  me,  and  grant  that  I  may  be  found  at 
the  last  of  him  in  peace,  without  spot  and  blameless. 

INTER.  But  why  standest  thou  thus  at  the  door  ?  Come 
in,  thou  daughter  of  Abraham.  We  were  talking  of  thee  but 
now,  for  tidings  have  come  to  us  before  how  thou  art  become 


206  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

a  pilgrim.     Come,  children,  come  in;  come,  maiden,  come  in. 
So  he  had  them  all  in  to  the  house. 

So  when  they  were  within,  they  were  bidden  sit  down  and 
rest  them;  the  which  when  they  had  done,  those  that  attended 

upon  the  pilgrims  in  the  house,  came  into  the 
to  seeatheSyoung  room  to  see  them.  And  one  smiled,  and  an- 
W?££  other  smiled,  and  they  all  smiled  for  joy  that 

Christiana  was  become  a  pilgrim.  They  also 
looked  upon  the  boys;  they  stroked  them  over  the  faces  with 
the  hand,  in  token  of  their  kind  reception  of  them.  They 
also  carried  it  lovingly  to  Mercy,  and  bid  them  all  welcome 
into  their  master's  house. 

After  a  while,  because  supper  was  not  ready,  the  Interpre- 
ter took  them  into  his  significant  rooms,  and  showed  them 

what  Christian,  Christiana's  husband,  had  seen 

some  time  before.     Here   therefore   they   saw 

S/34-44.         ^e  man  m  ^e  Ca8e»  tne  man  and  his  dream, 
the  man  that  cut  his  way  through  his  enemies, 
and  the  picture  of  the  biggest  of  them  all;  together  with  the 
rest  of  those  things  that  were  then  so  profitable  to  Christian. 
This  done,  and  after  these  things  had  been  somewhat  di- 
gested by  Christiana  and  her  company,  the  Interpreter  takes 
them  apart  again,  and  has  them  first  into  a 

TTie  man  with 

the  muck-rake  room  where  was  a  man  that  could  look  no  way 
but  downwards,  with  a  muck-rake  in  his  hand. 
There  stood  also  one  over  his  head  with  a  celestial  crown  in 
his  hand,  and  proffered  to  give  him  that  crown  for  his  muck- 
rake; but  the  man  did  neither  look  up  nor  regard,  but  raked 
to  himself  the  straws,  the  small  sticks,  and  dust  of  the  floor. 

Then  said  Christiana,  I  persuade  myself  that  I  know 
somewhat  the  meaning  of  this;  for  this  is  a  figure  of  a  man 
of  this  world,  is  it  not,  good  sir  ? 

INTER.  Thou  hast  said  the  right,  said  he;  and  his  muck- 
rake doth  show  his  carnal  mind.  And  whereas  thou  seest 
him  rather  give  heed  to  rake  up  straws  and  sticks  and  the 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  207 

dust  of  the  floor,  than  to  what  he  says  that  calls  to  him  from 
above  with  the  celestial  crown  in  his  hand,  it  is  to  show  that 
heaven  is  but  as  a  fable  to  some,  and  that  things  here  are 
counted  the  only  things  substantial.  Now  whereas  it  was 
also  showed  thee,  that  the  man  could  look  no  way  but  down- 
wards, it  is  to  let  thee  know  that  earthly  things,  when  they 
are  with  power  upon  men's  minds,  quite  carry  their  hearts 
away  from  God. 
™  ...  ,  CHRIS.  Then  said  Christiana,  O  deliver  me 

Christiana  s 

prayer  against         frOm  this  muck-rake  ! 

the  muck-rake. 

INTER.     That  prayer,  said  the  Interpreter, 

Prov.  xxx.  8.  ,          ,    .       ,         .  .„    5j.         ,  ««/->•• 

has  lam  by  till  tis  almost  rusty.  Give  me 
not  riches,"  is  scarce  the  prayer  of  one  of  ten  thousand. 
Straws,  and  sticks,  and  dust,  with  most,  are  the  great  things 
now  looked  after. 

With  that  Mercy  and  Christiana  wept,  and  said,  It  is,  alas  ! 
too  true. 

When  the  Interpreter  had  showed  them  this,  he  has  them 
into  the  very  best  room  in  the  house  (a  very  brave  room  it 
was),  so  he  bid  them  look  round  about  and  see  if  they  could 
find  anything  profitable  there.  Then  they  looked  round  and 
round,  for  there  was  nothing  there  to  be  seen  but  a  very  great 
spider  on  the  wall,  and  that  they  overlooked. 

MERCY.  Then  said  Mercy,  Sir,  I  see  nothing;  but  Chris- 
tiana held  her  peace. 

INTER.     But  said  the  Interpreter,  Look  again.     She  there- 
fore looked  again  and  said,  Here  is  not  anything  but  an  ugly 
spider,  who  hangs  by  her  hands  upon  the  wall. 
Then  said  he,  Is  there  but  one  spider  in  all  this 
spacious  room?     Then  the  water  stood  in  Christiana's  eyes, 
for  she  was  a  woman  quick  of  apprehension;  and  she  said, 
Yes,  Lord,  there  is  here  more  than  one;  yea, 
anc*  spiders  whose  venom  is  far  more  destruc- 
tive than  that  which  is  in  her.     The  Interpreter 
then  looked  pleasantly  upon  her,  and  said,  Thou  hast  said 


208  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

the  truth.     This  made  Mercy  blush,  and  the  boys  to  cover 

their  faces,  for  they  all  began  now  to  understand  the  riddle. 

Then  said  the  Interpreter  again,  "The  spider  taketh  hold 

with  her  hands  (as  you  see),  and  is  in  kings' 

palaces."     And  wherefore  is  this  recorded,  but 

interpretation.       to  s^ow  you  that,  how  full  of  the  venom  of  sin 

soever  you  be,  yet  you  may  by  the  hand  of 

faith  lay  hold  of,  and  dwell  in  the  best  room  that  belongs  to 

the  King's  house  above  ? 

CHRIS.  I  thought,  said  Christiana,  of  something  of  this; 
but  I  could  not  imagine  it  all.  I  thought  that  we  were  like 
spiders,  and  that  we  looked  like  ugly  creatures,  in  what  fine 
room  soever  we  were;  but  that  by  this  spider,  this  venomous 
and  ill-favored  creature,  we  wrere  to  learn  how  to  act  faith, 
came  not  into  my  mind.  And  yet  she  has  taken  hold  with 
her  hands,  as  I  see,  and  dwells  in  the  best  room  in  the  house. 
God  has  made  nothing  in  vain. 

Then  they  seemed  all  to  be  glad,  but  the  water  stood  in 
their  eyes;  yet  they  looked  one  upon  another,  and  also  bowed 
before  the  Interpreter. 

He  had  them  then  into  another  room  where  was  a  hen  and 
chickens,  and  bid  them  observe  a  while.     So  one  of  the  chick- 
ens went  to   the  trough  to   drink,  and  every 
andhchfcekens.        time  sne  drank  she  lift  up  her  head  and  her 
eyes  towards  heaven.     See,  said  he,  what  this 
little  chick  doth,  and  learn  of  her  to  acknowledge  whence  your 
mercies  come,  by  receiving  them  with  looking  up.     Yet  again, 
said  he,  observe  and  look;  so  they  gave  heed  and  perceived 
that  the  hen  did  walk  in  a  fourfold  method 

Matt.  xxm.  37. 

towards  her  chickens:  1.  She  had  a  common 
call,  and  that  she  hath  all  day  long.  2.  She  had  a  special 
call,  and  that  she  had  but  sometimes.  3.  She  had  a  brooding 
note.  And,  4.  She  had  an  outcry. 

Now,  said  he,  compare  this  hen  to  your  King,  and  these 
chickens  to  his  obedient  ones.  For  answerable  to  her,  him- 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  209 

self  has  his  methods  which  he  walketh  in  towards  his  people. 
By  his  common  call  he  gives  nothing;  by  his  special  call  he 
always  has  something  to  give;  he  has  also  a  brooding  voice, 
for  them  that  are  under  his  wing;  and  he  has  an  outcry,  to 
give  the  alarm  when  he  sees  the  enemy  come.  I  chose,  my 
darlings,  to  lead  you  into  the  room  where  such  things  are, 
because  you  are  women,  and  they  are  easy  for  you. 

CHRIS.     And,  Sir,  said  Christiana,  pray  let  us  see  some 

more.     So  he  had  them  into  the  slaughter-house,  where  was 

a  butcher  a-killing  of  a  sheep;  and  behold  the 

eeep.          sheeP  was  ^uiet'  and  to°k  her  death  Patiently . 

Then  sa'd  the  Interpreter,  You  must  learn  of 
the  sheep  to  suffer,  and  to  put  up  wrongs  without  murmurings 
and  complaints.  Behold  how  quietly  she  takes  her  death, 
and,  without  objecting,  she  suffereth  her  skin  to  be  pulled 
over  her  ears.  Your  King  doth  call  you  his  sheep. 

After  this  he  led  them  into  his  garden,  where  was  great 
variety  of  flowers,  and  he  said,  Do  you  see  all  these?     So 

Christiana    said,    Yes.     Then    said    he   again, 

Of  the  garden. 

Behold,  the  flowers  are  diverse  in  stature,  in 
quality,  and  color,  and  smell,  and  virtue,  and  some  are  bet- 
ter than  some;  also  where  the  gardener  has  set  them,  there 
they  stand,  and  quarrel  not  one  with  another. 

Again,  he  had  them  into  his  field,  which  he  had  sowed  with 
wheat  and  corn;  but  when  they  beheld,  the  tops  of  all  were 

cut  off,  only  the  straw  remained;  he  said  again, 

Of  the  field.  .         .      .  . 

This  ground  was  dunged,  and  ploughed,  and 
sowed;  but  what  shall  we  do  with  the  crop?  Then  said 
Christiana,  Burn  some,  and  make  muck  of  the  rest.  Then 
said  the  Interpreter  again,  Fruit,  you  see,  is  that  thing  you 
look  for,  and  for  want  of  that  you  condemn  it  to  the  fire, 
and  to  be  trodden  under  foot  of  men;  beware  that  in  this  you 
condemn  not  yourselves. 

Then,  as  they  were  coming  in  from  abroad,  they  espied  a 
little  robin  with  a  great  spider  in  his  mouth.     So  the  Inter- 


210  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

preter  said,  Look  here.  So  they  looked,  and  Mercy  won- 
dered, but  Christiana  said,  What  a  disparage- 
and  ment  is  i1:  to  sucn  a  little  Pretty  bird  as  the 
robin  redbreast  is,  he  being  also  a  bird  above 
many  that  loveth  to  maintain  a  kind  of  sociableness  with 
man;  I  had  thought  they  had  lived  upon  crumbs  of  bread,  or 
upon  other  such  harmless  matter.  I  like  him  worse  than  I  did. 

The  Interpreter  then  replied,  This  robin  is  an  emblem  very 
apt  to  set  forth  some  professors  by;  for  to  sight  they  are  as 
this  robin,  pretty  of  note,  color,  and  carriage.  They  seem 
also  to  have  a  very  great  love  for  professors  that  are  sincere; 
and  above  all  other  to  desire  to  sociate  with,  and  to  be  in 
their  company,  as  if  they  could  live  upon  the  good  man's 
crumbs.  They  pretend  also  that  therefore  it  is  that  they 
frequent  the  house  of  the  godly,  and  the  appointments  of 
the  Lord;  but  when  they  .are  by  themselves,  as  the  robin, 
they  can  catch  and  gobble  up  spiders,  they  can  change  their 
diet,  drink  iniquity,  and  swallow  down  sin  like  water. 

So   when    they  were   come    again    into   the 

wSlgei  "at  that       house,  because  supper  as   yet  was  not  ready, 

unseated™*        Christiana  again  desired  that  the  Interpreter 

would    either    show  or    tell    of    some    other 

things  that  are  profitable. 

Then  the  Interpreter  began  and  said:  The  fatter  the  sow 
is,  the  more  she  desires  the  mire;  the  fatter  the  ox  is,  the 
more  gamesomely  he  goes  to  the  slaughter;  and  the  more 
healthy  the  lusty  man  is,  the  more  prone  he  is  unto  evil. 

There  is  a  desire  in  women  to  go  neat  and  fine,  and  it  is  a 
comely  thing  to  be  adorned  with  that  that  in  God's  sight  is 
of  great  price. 

'Tis  easier  watching  a  night  or  two,  than  ,to  sit  up  a  whole 
year  together;  so  'tis  easier  for  one  to  begin  to  profess  well, 
than  to  hold  out  as  he  should  to  the  end. 

Every  shipmaster,  when  in  a  storm,  will  willingly  cast  that 
overboard  that  is  of  the  smallest  value  in  the  vessel;  but  who 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  211 

will  throw  the  best  out  first  ?     None  but  he  that  f eareth  not 
God. 

One  leak  will  sink  a  ship,  and  one  sin  will  destroy  a  sinner. 

He  that  forgets  his  friend  is  ungrateful  unto  him,  but  he 
that  forgets  his  Saviour  is  unmerciful  to  himself. 

He  that  lives  in  sin,  and  looks  for  happiness  hereafter,  is 
like  him  that  soweth  cockle,  and  thinks  to  fill  his  barn  with 
wheat  or  barley. 

If  a  man  would  live  well,  let  him  fetch  his  last  day  to  him, 
and  make  it  always  his  company-keeper. 

Whispering,  and  change  of  thoughts,  prove  that  sin  is  in 
the  world. 

If  the  world,  which  God  sets  light  by,  is  counted  a  thing  of 
that  worth  with  men,  what  is  heaven,  that  God  commendeth  ? 

If  the  life  that  is  attended  with  so  many  troubles  is  so  loath 
to  be  let  go  by  us,  what  is  the  life  above  ? 

Everybody  will  cry  up  the  goodness  of  men;  but  who  is 
there  that  is,  as  he  should,  affected  with  the  goodness  of  God  ? 

We  seldom  sit  down  to  meat  but  we  eat  and  leave;  so  there 
is  in  Jesus  Christ  more  merit  and  righteousness  than  the 
whole  world  has  need  of. 

When  the  Interpreter  had  done,  he  takes  them  out  into  his 

garden  again,  and  had  them  to  a  tree  whose  inside  was  all 

rotten   and   gone,   and   yet   it   grew   and   had 

that  is  rotten         leaves.     Then  said  Mercy,  What  means  this  ? 

This  tree,  said  he,  whose  outside  is  fair,  and 

whose  inside  is  rotten,  it  is  to  which  many  may  be  compared 

that  are  in  the  garden  of  God;  who  with  their  mouths  speak 

high  in  behalf  of  God,  but  indeed  will  do  nothing  for  him; 

whose  leaves  are  fair,  but  their  heart  good  for  nothing  but  to 

be  tinder  for  the  devil's  tinder-box. 

Now  supper  was  ready,  the  table  spread,  and 

Juw™  at          a11  things  set  on  the  board;  so  they  sat  down 

and  did  eat  when  one  had  given  thanks.     And 

the  Interpreter  did  usually  entertain  those  that  lodged  with 


212  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

him  with  music  at  meals,  so  the  minstrels  played.  There 
was  also  one  that  did  sing,  and  a  very  fine  voice  he  had.  His 
song  was  this — 

The  Lord  is  only  my  support, 

And  he  that  doth  me  feed; 
How  can  I  then  want  anything 

Whereof  I  stand  in  need? 

When  the  song  and  music  was  ended,  the 

Talk  at  supper.  ' ~.     .     . 

Interpreter  asked  Christiana  what  it  was  that 
at  first  did  move  her  to  betake  herself  to  a  pilgrim's  life. 

Christiana  answered:  First,  the  loss  of  my  husband  came 
into  my  mind,  at  which  I  was  heartily  grieved;  but  all  that 

was    but  natural   affection.     Then   after   that 

A  repetition  of 

Christiana's  came  the  troubles  and  pilgrimage  of  my  hus- 
band's into  my  mind,  and  also  how  like  a  churl 
I  had  carried  it  to  him  as  to  that.  So  guilt  took  hold  of  my 
mind,  and  would  have  drawn  me  into  the  pond,  but  that  op- 
portunely I  had  a  dream  of  the  well-being  of  my  husband, 
and  a  letter  sent  me  by  the  King  of  that  country  where  my 
husband  dwells,  to  come  to  him.  The  dream  and  the  letter 
together  so  wrought  upon  my  mind,  that  they  forced  me  to 
this  way. 

INTER.  But  met  you  with  no  opposition  afore  you  set 
out-of-doors  ? 

CHRIS.  Yes,  a  neighbor  of  mine,  one  Mrs.  Timorous  (she 
was  akin  to  him  that  would  have  persuaded  my  husband  to 
go  back  for  fear  of  the  lions).  She  all-to-be-fooled  me  for,  as 
she  called  it,  my  intended  desperate  adventure;  she  also 
urged  what  she  could  to  dishearten  me  to  it,  the  hardship 
and  troubles  that  my  husband  met  with  in  the  way:  but  all 
this  I  got  over  pretty  well.  But  a  dream  that  I  had,  of  two 
ill-looked  ones,  that  I  thought  did  plot  how  to  make  me  mis- 
carry in  my  journey,  that  hath  troubled  me  much;  yea,  it 
still  runs  in  my  mind,  and  makes  me  afraid  of  every  one  that 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  213 

I  meet,  lest  they  should  meet  me  to  do  me  a  mischief,  and 
to  turn  me  out  of  the  way.  Yea,  I  may  tell  my  Lord,  though 
I  would  not  have  everybody  know  it,  that  between  this  and 
the  gate  by  which  we  got  into  the  way,  we  were  both  so 
sorely  assaulted  that  we  were  made  to  cry  out  murder,  and 
the  two  that  made  this  assault  upon  us  were  like  the  two 
that  I  saw  in  my  dream. 

Then  said  the  Interpreter,  Thy  beginning  is 

to  qMeSrcyn  PUt  g°od»  thy  latter  end  sha11  greatly  increase.  So 
he  addressed  himself  to  Mercy,  and  said  unto 
her,  And  what  moved  thee  to  come  hither,  sweetheart? 

Then  Mercy  blushed  and  trembled,  and  for  a  while  con- 
tinued silent. 

INTER.  Then  said  he,  Be  not  afraid,  only  believe,  and 
speak  thy  mind. 

MERCY.     So  she  began  and  said:  Truly,  Sir,  my  want  of 

experience  is  that  that  makes  me  covet  to  be  in  silence,  and 

that  also  that  fills  me  with  fears  of  coming 

Mercy  s  answer.  .   . 

short  at  last.  I  cannot  tell  of  visions  and 
dreams  as  my  friend  Christiana  can,  nor  know  I  what  it  is  to 
mourn  for  my  refusing  of  the  counsel  of  those  that  were  good 
relations. 

INTER.  What  was  it,  then,  dear  heart,  that  hath  prevailed 
with  thee  to  do  as  thou  hast  done  ? 

MERCY.  Why,  w^hen  our  friend  here  was  packing  up  to 
be  gone  from  our  town,  I  and  another  went  accidentally  to 
see  her.  So  we  knocked  at  the  door  and  went  in.  When  we 
were  within,  and  seeing  what  she  was  doing,  we  asked  what 
was  her  meaning.  She  said  she  was  sent  for  to  go  to  her 
husband;  and  then  she  up  and  told  us  how  she  had  seen  him 
in  a  dream,  dwelling  in  a  curious  place,  among  immortals, 
wearing  a  crown,  playing  upon  a  harp,  eating  and  drinking  at 
his  Prince's  table,  and  singing  praises  to  him  for  bringing 
him  thither,  etc.  Now  methought,  while  she  was  telling 
these  things  unto  us,  my  heart  burned  within  me;  and  I  said 


214  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

in  my  heart,  If  this  be  true,  I  will  leave  my  father  and  my 
mother,  and  the  land  of  my  nativity,  and  will,  if  I  may,  go 
along  with  Christiana. 

So  I  asked  her  further  of  the  truth  of  these  things,  and  if 
she  would  let  me  go  with  her;  for  I  saw  now  that  there  was 
no  dwelling,  but  with  the  danger  of  ruin,  any  longer  in  our 
town.  But  yet  I  came  away  with  a  heavy  heart,  not  for  that 
I  was  unwilling  to  come  away,  but  for  that  so  many  of  my 
relations  were  left  behind.  And  I  am  come,  with  all  the 
desire  of  my  heart,  and  will  go,  if  I  may,  with  Christiana  unto 
her  husband,  and  his  King. 

INTER.     Thy  setting  out  is  good,  for  thou  hast  given  credit 

to  the  truth.     Thou  art  a  Ruth,  who  did,  for  the  love  that 

she  bore  to  Naomi,  and  to  the  Lord  her  God, 

Ruth  n.  11,  12. 

leave  father  and  mother,  and  the  land  of  her 
nativity,  to  come  out,  and  go  with  a  people  that  she  knew 
not  heretofore.  "The  Lord  recompense  thy  work,  and  a  full 
reward  be  given  thee  of  the  Lord  God  of  Israel,  under  whose 
wing  thou  art  come  to  trust." 

Now  supper  was  ended,  and  preparations  were  made  for 
bed :  the  women  were  laid  singly  alone,  and  the 
themtekt*  boys  by  themselves.     Now  when  Mercy  was  in 

bed,  she  could  not  sleep  for  joy,  for  that  now 
nierh/sSre°t°d         ^er  doubts  of  missing  at  last  were  removed  fur- 
ther from  her  than  ever  they  were  before.     So 
she  lay  blessing  and  praising  God,  who  had  had  such  favor 
for  her. 

In  the  morning  they  rose  with  the  sun,  and  prepared  them- 
selves for  their  departure;  but  the  Interpreter  would  have 
them  tarry  a  while,  For,  said  he,  you  must  orderly  go  from 
hence.  Then  said  he  to  the  damsel  that  at  first  opened  unto 
them :  Take  them  and  have  them  into  the  garden  to  the  bath, 
and  there  wash  them,  and  make  them  clean  from  the  soil 
which  they  have  gathered  by  travelling.  Then  Innocent,  the 
damsel,  took  them,  and  had  them  into  the  garden,  and 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  215 

brought  them  to  the  bath;  so  she  told  them  that  there 
they  must  wash  and  be  clean,  for  so  her  mas- 

Sanctification  *er  would  have  the  women  to  do  that  called 
at  his  house  as  they  were  going  on  pilgrimage. 

They  then  went  in  and  washed,  yea,  they  and  the  boys  and 
all;  and  they  came  out  of  that  bath  not  only 

They  wash  in  it.  J 

sweet  and  clean,  but  also  much  enlivened  and 

strengthened  in  their  joints.     So  when  they  came  in  they 

looked  fairer  a  deal  than  when  they  went  out  to  the  washing. 

When  they  were  returned  out  of  the  garden  from  the  bath, 

the  Interpreter  took  them,  and  looked  upon  them,  and  said 

unto  them,  "Fair  as  the  moon."    Then  he  called 

They  are  sealed. 

for  the  seal,  wherewith  they  used  to  be  sealed 
that  were  washed  in  his  bath.  So  the  seal  was  brought,  and 
he  set  his  mark  upon  them,  that  they  might  be  known  in  the 
places  whither  they  were  yet  to  go.  Now  the  seal  was  the 

contents  and  sum  of  the  passover  which  the 

Exod.  xin.  8-10. 

children  of  Israel  did  eat  when  they  came  out 
from  the  land  of  Egypt;  and  the  mark  was  set  between  their 
eyes.  This  seal  greatly  added  to  their  beauty,  for  it  was  an 
ornament  to  their  faces.  It  also  added  to  their  gravity,  and 
made  their  countenances  more  like  them  of  angels. 

Then  said  the  Interpreter  again  to  the  damsel  that  waited 
upon  these  women,  Go  into  the  vestry  and  fetch  out  garments 

for  these  people.  So  she  went  and  fetched  out 
clothed™  white  raiment,  and  laid  it  down  before  him;  so 

he  commanded  them  to  put  it  on.  Jt  was  "fine 
linen,  white  and  clean."  When  the  women  were  thus 
adorned,  they  seemed  to  be  a  terror  one  to  the  other;  for  that 
they  could  not  see  that  glory  each  one^on  herself,  which  they 

could  see  in  each  other.     Now  therefore  thev 

Irue  humility. 

began  to  esteem  each  other  better  than  them- 
selves. For,  you  are  fairer  than  I  am,  said  one;  and,  You 
are  more  comely  than  I  am,  said  another.  The  children  also 
stood  amazed  to  see  into  what  fashion  they  were  brought. 


216  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

The  Interpreter  then  called  for  a  man  servant  of  his,  one 
Great-heart,  and  bid  him  take  sword,  and  helmet,  and  shield; 
and  take  these  my  daughters,  said  he,  and  conduct  them  to 
the  house  called  Beautiful,  at  which  place  they  will  rest  next. 
So  he  took  his  weapons  and  went  before  them,  and  the  Inter- 
preter said,  God  speed.  Those  also  that  belonged  to  the 
family  sent  them  away  with  many  a  good  wish.  So  they 
went  on  their  way,  and  sung — 

This  place  has  been  our  second  stage; 

Here  we  have  heard  and  seen 
Those  good  things  that,  from  age  to  age, 

To  others  hid  have  been. 

The  dunghill-raker,  spider,  hen, 

The  chicken  too  to  me 
Hath  taught  a  lesson;  let  me  then 

Conformed. to  it  be. 

The  butcher,  garden,  and  the  field, 

The  robin  and  his  bait, 
Also  the  rotten-tree  doth  yield 

Me  argument  of  weight. 

To  move  me  for  to  watch  and  pray, 

To  strive  to  be  sincere, 
To  take  my  cross  up  day  by  day, 

And  serve  the  Lord  with  fear. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  they  went  on,  and  Great- 
heart  went  before  them.     So  they  went  and  came  to  the 
place  where  Christian's  burden  fell  off  his  back, 
page  45.  anc^  tumbled  into  a  sepulchre.     Here  then  they 

made  a  pause,  and  here  also  they  blessed  God. 
Now,  said  Christiana,  it  comes  to  my  mind  what  was  said  to 
us  at  the  gate,  to  wit,  that  we  should  have  pardon,  by  word 
and  deed;  by  word,  that  is,  by  the  promise;  by  deed,  to  wit,  in 
the  way  it  was  obtained.  What  the  promise  is,  of  that  I 
know  something;  but  what  is  it  to  have  pardon  by  deed,  or 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  21? 

in  the  way  that  it  was  obtained,  Mr.  Great-heart,  I  suppose 
you  know;  wherefore,  if  you  please,  let  us  hear  you  discourse 
thereof. 

GREAT-HEART.  Pardon  by  the  deed  done,  is  pardon  ob- 
tained by  some  one,  for  another  that  hath  need  thereof:  not 
by  the  person  pardoned,  but  in  the  way,  saith 
whatmw™nL?d™  another,  in  which  I  have  obtained  it.  So  then.. 
to  sPeak  to  tne  question  more  large,  the  pardon 
tnat  you  anc^  Mercy  and  these  boys  have  at- 
tained, was  obtained  by  another,  to  wit,  by  him 
that  let  you  in  at  the  gate:  And  he  hath  obtained  it  in  this 
double  way:  He  has  performed  righteousness  to  cover  you, 
and  spilt  blood  to  wash  you  in. 

CHRIS.  But  if  he  parts  with  his  righteousness  to  us,  what 
will  he  have  for  himself  ? 

GREAT-HEART.  He  has  more  righteousness  than  you  have 
need  of,  or  than  he  needeth  himself.  x 

CHRIS.     Pray  make  that  appear. 

GREAT-HEART.  With  all  my  heart;  but  first  I  must  pre- 
mise, that  he  of  whom  we  are  now  about  to  speak  is  one  that 
has  not  his  fellow.  He  has  two  natures  in  one  person,  plain 
to  be  distinguished,  impossible  to  be  divided.  Unto  each  of 
these  natures  a  righteousness  belongeth,  and  each  righteous- 
ness is  essential  to  that  nature;  so  that  one  may  as  easily 
cause  the  nature  to  be  extinct,  as  to  separate  its  justice  or 
righteousness  from  it.  Of  these  righteousnesses,  therefore, 
we  are  not  made  partakers  so  as  that  they,  or  any  of  them, 
should  be  put  upon  us  that  we  might  be  made  just,  and  live 
thereby.  Besides  these,  there  is  a  righteousness  which  this 
person  hath,  as  these  two  natures  are  joined  in  one.  And 
this  is  not  the  righteousness  of  the  Godhead,  as  distinguished 
from  the  manhood;  nor  the  righteousness  of  the  manhood,  as 
distinguished  from  the  Godhead;  but  a  righteousness  which 
standeth  in  the  union  of  both  natures,  and  may  properly  be 
called,  the  righteousness  that  is  essential  to  his  being  pre- 


218  THE  PILGKIM'S   PROGRESS 

pared  of  God  to  the  capacity  of  the  mediatory  office  which  he 
was  to  be  intrusted  with.  If  he  parts  with  his  first  righteous- 
ness, he  parts  with  his  Godhead;  if  he  parts  with  his  second 
righteousness,  he  parts  with  the  purity  of  his  manhood;  if 
he  parts  with  his  third,  he  parts  with  that  perfection  that 
capacitates  him  to  the  office  of  mediation.  He  has  therefore 
another  righteousness,  which  standeth  hi  performance,  or 
obedience  to  a  revealed  will;  and  that  is  it  that  he  puts  upon 
sinners,  and  that  by  which  their  sins  are  cov- 

Rom.  v.  19. 

ered.  Wherefore  he  saith,  "As  by  one  man's 
disobedience  many  were  made  sinners,  so  by  the  obedience 
of  one  shall  many  be  made  righteous." 

CHRIS.     But  are  the  other  righteousnesses  of  no  use  to  us  ? 

GREAT-HEART.  Yes;  for  though  they  are  essential  to  his 
natures  and  office  and  so  cannot  be  communicated  unto  an- 
other, yet  it  is  by  virtue  of.  them  that  the  righteousness  that 
justifies  is  for  that  purpose  efficacious.  The  righteousness  of 
his  Godhead  gives  virtue  to  his  obedience;  the  righteousness 
of  his  manhood  giveth  capability  to  his  obedience  to  justify; 
and  the  righteousness  that  standeth  in  the  union  of  these 
two  natures  to  his  office,  giveth  authority  to  that  righteous- 
ness to  do  the  work  for  which  it  is  ordained. 

So  then,  here  is  a  righteousness  that  Christ,  as  God,  has 
no  need  of,  for  he  is  God  without  it.  Here  is  a  righteousness 
that  Christ,  as  man,  has  no  need  of  to  make  him  so,  for  he 
is  perfect  man  without  it.  Again,  here  is  a  righteousness 
that  Christ,  as  God-man,  has  no  need  of,  for  he  is  perfectly 
so  without  it.  Here  then  is  a  righteousness  that  Christ,  as 
God,  as  man,  as  God-man,  has  no  need  of,  with  reference  to 
himself,  and  therefore  he  can  spare  it;  a  justifying  righteous- 
ness, that  he  for  himself  wanteth  not,  and  therefore  he  giveth 
7  it  away;  hence  'tis  called  the  "gift  of  righteous- 

ness." This  righteousness,  since  Christ  Jesus 
the  Lord  has  made  himself  under  the  law,  must  be  given 
away;  for  the  law  doth  not  only  bind  him  that  is  under  it 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  219 

to  do  justly,  but  to  use  charity.  Wherefore  he  must,  he 
ought  by  the  law,  if  he  hath  two  coats,  to  give  one  to  him 
that  hath  none.  Now  our  Lord  indeed  hath  two  coats,  one 
for  himself,  and  one  to  spare;  wherefore  he  freely  bestows 
one  upon  those  that  have  none.  And  thus,  Christiana,  and 
Mercy,  and  the  rest  of  you  that  are  here,  doth  Jjpur  pardon 
come  by  deed,  or  by  the  work  of  another  man.  Your  Lord 
Christ  is  he  that  has  worked,  and  given  away  what  he  wrought 
for,  to  the  next  poor  beggar  he  meets. 

But  again,  in  order  to  pardon  by  deed,  there  must  some- 
thing be  paid  to  God  as  a  price,  as  well  as  something  pre- 
pared to  cover  us  withal.  Sin  has  delivered  us  up  to  the 
just  curse  of  a  righteous  law;  now  from  this  curse  we  must 
be  justified  by  way  of  redemption,  a  price  being  paid  for  the 
harms  we  have  done;  and  this  is  by  the  blood 

Rom.  iv.  25.  ii. 

of  your  Lord,  who  came  and  stood   m  your 

place  and  stead,  and  died  your  death  for  your 
transgressions.  Thus  has  he  ransomed  you  from  your  trans- 
gressions by  blood,  and  covered  your  polluted  and  deformed 
souls  with  righteousness;  for  the  sake  of  which,  God  passeth  by 
you,  and  will  not  hurt  you,  when  he  comes  to  judge  the  world. 
CHRIS.  This  is  brave.  Now  I  see  that  there  was  some- 
thing to  be  learned  by  our  being  pardoned  by  ivord  and  deed. 

Good  Mercy,  let  us  labor  to  keep  this  in  mind; 

and,  my  children,  do  you  remember  it  also. 

But>   Sir>   was  not   this    'li   that  made  my   g°°d 

Christian's  burden  fall  from  off  his  shoulder, 
and  that  made  him  give  three  leaps  for  joy  ? 
„     .,     .  .  GREAT-HEART.     Yes,  'twas  the  belief  of  this 

How  the  strings 

that  bound  that  cut  those  strings  that  could  not  be  cut  by 

Christian's 

burden  to  him       other  means,  and   twas  to  give  him  a  proof  of 
the  virtue  of  this,  that  he  was  suffered  to  carry 
his  burden  to  the  cross. 

CHRIS.     I  thought  so ;  for  though  my  heart  was  lightf ul  and 
joyous  before,  yet  it  is  ten  times  more  lightsome  and  joyous 


220  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

now.  And  I  am  persuaded  by  what  I  have  felt,  though  I 
have  felt  but  little  as  yet,  that  if  the  most  burdened  man  in 
the  world  was  here,  and  did  see  and  believe,  as  I  now  do, 
'twould  make  his  heart  the  more  merry  and  blithe. 

GREAT-HEART.     There  is  not  only  comfort,  and  the  ease 

of  a  burden  brought  to  us,  by  the  sight  and  consideration  of 

these,  but  an  endeared  affection  begot  in  us  by 

How  affection  to      , 

Christ  is  begot       it;  tor  who  can,  it  he  doth  but  once  think  that 

in  the  soul.  ,  i      i  •         i 

pardon  comes,  not  only  by  promise,  but  thus, 
but  be  affected  with  the  way  and  means  of  his  redemption, 
and  so  with  the  man  that  hath  wrought  it  for  him  ? 

CHRIS.     True;  methinks  it  makes  my  heart  bleed  to  think 

that  he  should  bleed  for  me.     Oh !  thou  loving  One  !     Oh ! 

thou  blessed  One !  thou  deservest  to  have  me, 

fart  l. 

page  45.  thou  hast  bought  me :  thou  deservest  to  have 

Cause  of  me  all;  thou  hast  paid  for  me  ten  thousand 

times  more  than  I  am  worth.  No  marvel  that 
this  made  the  water  stand  in  my  husband's  eyes,  and  that  it 
made  him  trudge  so  nimbly  on.  I  am  persuaded  he  wished 
me  with  him ;  but,  vile  wretch  that  I  was !  I  let  him  come  all 
alone.  O  Mercy,  that  thy  father  and  mother  were  here  !  yea, 
and  Mrs.  Timorous  also !  nay,  I  wish  now  with  all  my  heart, 
that  here  was  Madam  Wanton  too.  Surely,  surely,  their 
hearts  would  be  affected;  nor  could  the  fear  of  the  one,  nor 
the  powerful  lusts  of  the  other,  prevail  with  them  to  go  home 
again,  and  to  refuse  to  become  good  pilgrims. 

GREAT-HEART.  You  speak  now  in  the  warmth  of  your 
affections.  Will  it,  think  you,  be  always  thus  with  you? 
„,  ,  .  .  ,  Besides,  this  is  not  communicated  to  every  one,  I 

To  be  affected 

with  Christ,  and     nOr  to  every  one  that  did  see  your  Jesus  bleed.  , 

with  what  he  has 

done,  is  a  thing     There  was  that  stood  by,  and  that  saw  the  |i 

blood  run  from  his  heart  to  the  ground,  and 
yet  were  so  far  off  this,  that  instead  of  lamenting,  they  laughed 
at  him;  and  instead  of  becoming  his  disciples,  did  harden 
their  hearts  against  him.  So  that  all  that  you  have,  my 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  221 

daughters,  you  have  by  a  peculiar  impression  made  by  a 
divine  contemplating  upon  what  I  have  spoken  to  you.  Re- 
member that  'twas  told  you,  that  the  hen  by  her  common  call 
gives  no  meat  to  her  chickens.  This  you  have,  therefore, 
by  a  special  grace. 

Now  I  saw  still  in  my  dream,  that  they  went 

Simple,  and  AM  ^i  ,1          i  ,-i.f^' 

Sloth,  and  on  until  they  were  come  to  the  place  that  Sim- 

hZ^dvhy.  Pi*,  and  Sloth,  and  Presumption  lay  and  slept 
in,  when  Christian  went  by  on  pilgrimage. 
And  behold,  they  were  hanged  up  in  irons,  a  little  way  off  on 
the  other  side. 

MERCY.  Then  said  Mercy  to  him  that  was  their  guide 
and  conductor,  What  are  those  three  men  ?  and  for  what  are 
they  hanged  there? 

GREAT-HEART.  These  three  men  were  men  of  very  bad 
qualities,  they  had  no  mind  to  be  pilgrims  themselves,  and 
whosoever  they  could  they  hindered.  They  were  for  sloth 
and  folly  themselves,  and  whoever  they  could  persuade  with, 
they  made  so  too,  and  withal  taught  them  to  presume  that 
they  should  do  well  at  last.  They  were  asleep  when  Chris- 
tian went  by,  and  now  you  go  by  they  are  hanged.1 

MERCY.  But  could  they  persuade  any  to  be  of  their 
opinion  ? 

GREAT-HEART.  Yes;  they  turned  several  out  of  the  way. 
There  was  Slow-pace  that  they  persuaded  to  do  as  they. 
They  also  prevailed  with  one  Short-wind,  with 
one  No-heart,  with  one  Linger-after-lust,  and 
prevailed  upon  with  one  Sleepy-head,  and  with  a  young  woman, 
o/  ^h^way  ner  name  was  Dull,  to  turn  out  of  the  way  and 

become  as  they.  Besides,  they  brought  up  an 
ill  report  of  your  Lord,  persuading  others  that  he  was  a  task- 
master. They  also  brought  up  an  evil  report  of  the  good 

1  Behold  here  how  the  slothful  are  a  sign, 
Hung  up,  'cause  holy  ways  they  did  decline. 
See  here,  too,  how  the  child  did  play  the  man, 
And  weak  grow  strong,  when  Great-heart  leads  the  van. 


222  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

land,  saying  'twas  not  half  as  good  as  some  pretend  it  was. 
They  also  began  to  vilify  his  servants,  and  to  count  the  very 
best  of  them  meddlesome,  troublesome  busy  bodies.  Fur- 
ther, they  would  call  the  bread  of  God  husks;  the  comforts 
of  his  children,  fancies;  the  travel  and  labor  of  pilgrims,  things 
to  no  purpose. 

CHRIS.  Nay,  said  Christiana,  if  they  were  such,  they  shall 
never  be  bewailed  by  me.  They  have  but  what  they  deserve, 
and  I  think  it  is  well  that  they  hang  so  near  the  highway  that 
others  may  see  and  take  warning.  But  had  it  not  been  well 
if  their  crimes  had  been  engraven  in  some  plate  of  iron  or  . 
brass,  and  left  here,  even  where  they  did  their  mischiefs,  for 
a  caution  to  other  bad  men  ? 

GREAT-HEART.  So  it  is,  as  you  well  may  perceive  if  you 
will  go  a  little  to  the  wall. 

MERCY.  No,  no,  let  them  hang,  and  their  names  rot,  and 
their  crimes  live  forever  against  them.  I  think  it  a  high 
favor  that  they  were  hanged  afore  we  came  hither;  who 
knows  else  what  they  might  have  done  to  such  poor  women 
as  we  are  ?  Then  she  turned  it  into  a  song,  saying — 

Now  then  you  three,  hang  there,  and  be  a  sign 
To  all  that  shall  against  the  truth  combine. 
And  let  him  that  comes  after,  fear  this  end, 
If  unto  pilgrims  he  is  not  a  friend. 
And  thou,  my  soul,  of  all  such  men  beware, 
That  unto  holiness  opposers  are. 

Thus  they  went  on  till  they  came  at  the  foot  of  the  Hill 

Difficulty,  where,  again,  their  good  friend,  Mr.  Great-heart, 

took  an  occasion  to  tell  them  of  what  happened 

page  49.  there  when  Christian  himself  went  by.     So  he 

TM  difficult         had  them  first  to  the  spring.     Lo,  saith  he,  this 

tiSmfiT*       is  the  spring  that  Christian  drank  of  before  he 

Wz°ke°xxxivmi8      went  UP  tnis  hill,  and  then  'twas  clear  and  good, 

but  now  'tis  dirty  with  the  feet  of  some  that 

are  not  desirous  that  pilgrims  here  should  quench  their  thirst. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  223 

Thereat  Mercy  said,  And  why  so  envious,  trow?  But  said 
their  guide,  It  will  do,  if  taken  up  and  put  into  a  vessel  that 
is  sweet  and  good;  for  then  the  dirt  will  sink  to  the  bottom, 
and  the  water  come  out  by  itself  more  clear.  Thus  therefore 
Christiana  and  her  companions  were  compelled  to  do.  They 
took  it  up,  and  put  it  into  an  earthen  pot,  and  so  let  it  stand 
till  the  dirt  was  gone  to  the  bottom,  and  then  they  drank 
thereof. 

Next  he  showed  them  the  two  byways  that  were  at  the 
foot  of  the  hill,  where  Formality  and  Hypocrisy  lost  them- 
selves. And,  said  he,  these  are  dangerous 
ba£edhup,hwill  paths.  Two  were  here  cast  away  when  Chris- 
^ng^nlhem™  tian  came  by-,  and  although,  as  you  see,  these 
p*rt  50  ways  are  since  stopped  up  with  chains,  posts, 

and  a  ditch,  yet  there  are  that  will  choose  to 
adventure  here,  rather  than  take  the  pains  to  go  up  this  hill. 
CHRIS.     "The  way  of  transgressors  is  hard." 

Prov.  xin.  15. 

'Tis  a  wonder  that  they  can  get  into  those  ways, 
without  danger  of  breaking  their  necks. 

GREAT-HEART.  They  will  venture;  yea,  if  at  any  time  any 
of  the  King's  servants  doth  happen  to  see  them,  and  doth 
call  unto  them,  and  tell  them  that  they  are  in  the  wrong 
ways,  and  do  bid  them  beware  the  danger,  then  they  will 

railingly  return  them  answer  and  say,  "As  for 

Jer.  xhv.  16,  17.  . 

the  word  that  thou  hast  spoken  unto  us  in  the 
name  of  the  King,  we  will  not  hearken  unto  thee;  but  we  will 
certainly  do  whatsoever  thing  goeth  out  of  our  own  mouths," 
etc.  Nay,  if  you  look  a  little  farther,  you  shall  see  that  these 
ways  are  made  cautionary  enough,  not  only  by  these  posts, 
and  ditch,  and  chain,  but  also  by  being  hedged  up;  yet  they 

will  choose  to  go  there. 

Lmerdaos°cho^  CHRIS.  They  are  idle,  they  love  not  to  take 
Prw.^iT"8'  Pains>  up-hill  way  is  unpleasant  to  them.  So 

it  is  fulfilled  unto  them  as  it  is  written,  "The 
way  of  the  slothful  man  is  as  a  hedge  of  thorns."  Yea, 


224  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

they  will  rather  choose  to  walk  upon  a  snare  than  to  go  up 
this  hill,  and  the  rest  of  this  way  to  the  city. 

Then  they  set  forward,  and  began  to  go  up  the  hill,  and 
up  the  hill  they  went;  but  before  they  got  to  the  top,  Chris- 
tiana began  to  pant,  and  said,  I  dare  say  this 
is  a  breathing  hill.  No  marvel  if  they  that 
love  their  ease  more  than  their  souls,  choose  to 
themselves  a  smoother  way.  Then  said  Mercy,  I  must  sit 
down;  also  the  least  of  the  children  began  to  cry.  Come, 
come,  said  Great-heart,  sit  not  down  here,  for  a  little  above 
is  the  Prince's  arbor.  Then  took  he  the  little  boy  by  the 
hand,  and  led  him  up  thereto. 

When  they  were  come  to  the  arbor,  they  were  very  willing 
to  sit  down,  for  they  were  all  in  a  pelting  heat.     Then  said 
Mercy,  How  sweet  is  rest  to  them  that  labor ! 
'arbor!'11  **  ***       And  how  good  is  the  Prince  of  pilgrims,  to  pro- 
pa^  si  v^e    suc^    resting-places    for    them !     Of    this 
arbor  I  have  heard  much,  but  I  never  saw  it 

Matt.  Xl.  xo. 

before.     But  here  let  us  beware  of  sleeping;  for, 

as  I  have  heard,  for  that  it  cost  poor  Christian  dear. 

Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart  to  the  little  ones,  Come,  my 

pretty  boys,  how  do  you  do  ?     What  think  you  now  of  going 
on  pilgrimage?     Sir,  said  the  least,  I  was  al- 
most beat  out  of  heart,  but  I  thank  you  for 
lfercyd  ahO      lending  me  a  hand  at  my  need.     And  I  remem- 
ber now  what  my  mother  has  told  me,  namely, 

That  the  way  to  heaven  is  as  up  a  ladder,  and  the  way  to 

hell  is  as  down  a  hill.     But  I  had  rather  go  up  the  ladder  to 

life,  than  down  the  hill  to  death. 

Then  said  Mercy,  But  the  proverb  is,  To  go  down  the  hill 

is  easy.     But  James  said  (for  that  was  his  name),  The  day  is 
coming,  when,  in  my  opinion,  going  down-hill 

hardest,  up-hill      will  be  the  hardest  of  all.     'Tis  a  good  boy,  said 
his  master;  thou  hast  given  her  a  right  answer. 

Then  Mercy  smiled,  but  the  little  boy  did  blush. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  225 

CHRIS.  Come,  said  Christiana,  will  you  eat  a  bit,  a  little 
to  sweeten  your  mouths,  while  you  sit  here  to  rest  your  legs  ? 

For  I  have  here  a  piece  of  pomegranate,  which 
'themselves^  Mr.  Interpreter  put  in  my  hand,  just  when  I 

came  out  of  his  doors.  He  gave  me  also  a  piece 
of  an  honeycomb,  and  a  little  bottle  of  spirits.  I  thought  he 
gave  you  something,  said  Mercy,  because  he  called  you 
aside.  Yes,  so  he  did,  said  the  other;  but  Mercy,  it  shall 
still  be  as  I  said  it  should,  when  at  first  we  came  from  home : 
Thou  shalt  be  a  sharer  in  all  the  good  that  I  have,  because 
thou  so  willingly  didst  become  my  companion.  Then  she 
gave  to  them,  and  they  did  eat,  both  Mercy  and  the  boys. 
And  said  Christiana  to  Mr.  Great-heart,  Sir,  will  you  do  as 
we?  But  he  answered,  You  are  going  on  pilgrimage,  and 
presently  I  shall  return;  much  good  may  what  you  have  do 
to  you :  at  home  I  eat  the  same  every  day.  Now  when  they 
had  eaten  and  drank,  and  had  chatted  a  little  longer,  their 
guide  said  to  them,  The  day  wears  away;  if  you  think  good, 
let  us  prepare  to  be  going.  So  they  got  up  to  go,  and  the 

little  boys  went  before.     But  Christiana  forgot 

Christiana  ,   ,  , 

forgets  her  bottle     to  take  her  bottle  of  spirits  with  her,  so  she 
sent  her  little  boy  back  to  fetch  it.     Then  said 
Mercy,  I  think  this  is  a  losing  place.     Here  Christian  lost 
his  roll,  and  here  Christiana  left  her  bottle  behind  her:  Sir, 
what  is  the  cause  of  this  ?     So  their  guide  made  answer  and 
said,  The  cause  is  sleep  or  forgetf ulness :  some  sleep,  when 
they  should  keep  awake ;  and  some  forget,  when  they  should 
remember;  and  this  is  the  very  cause  why  often  at  the  rest- 
ing-places  some   pilgrims   in  some  things    come   off  losers. 
Pilgrims   should   watch,   and   remember   what 
they  have  already  received  under  their  greatest 
pages1  si-54          enjoyments;  but  for  want  of  doing  so,  ofttimes 
their  rejoicing  ends  in  tears,  and  their  sunshine 
in  a  cloud:  Witness  the  story  of  Christian  at  this  place. 
When  they  were  come  to  the  place  where  Mistrust  and 


226  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

Timorous  met  Christian  to  persuade  him  to  go  back  for  fear 
of  the  lions,  they  perceived  as  it  were  a  stage,  and  before  it, 
towards  the  road,  a  broad  plate,  with  a  copy  of  verses  written 
thereon,  and  underneath,  the  reason  of  raising  up  of  that 
stage  in  that  place,  rendered.  The  verses  were  these  — 

Let  him  that  sees  this  stage  take  heed 

Unto  his  heart  and  tongue; 
Lest  if  he  do  not,  here  he  speed 

As  some  have  long  agone. 

The  words  underneath  the  verses  were,  This  stage  was 
built  to  punish  such  upon,  who,  through  timorousness  or 
mistrust,  shall  be  afraid  to  go  farther  on  pilgrimage.  Also, 
on  this  stage  both  Mistrust  and  Timorous  were  burned 
through  the  tongue  with  an  hot  iron,  for  endeavoring  to  hin- 
der Christian  in  his  journey. 

Then  said  Mercy,  This  is  much  like  to  the  saying  of  the 
Beloved,  "What  shall  be  given  unto  thee?  or 

Pa.  cxx.  3,  4. 

what  shall  be  done  unto  thee,  thou  false  tongue  ? 
Sharp  arrows  of  the  mighty,  with  coals  of  juniper." 

So  they  went  on,  till  they  came  within  sight  of  the  lions. 
Now  Mr.  Great-heart  was  a  strong  man,  so  he  was  not  afraid 

of  a  lion;  but  yet,  when  they  were  come  up  to 
pages  54,  55.  the  place  where  the  lions  were,  the  boys  that 
An  emblem  of  went  before  were  glad  to  cringe  behind,  for 

they  were  afraid  of  the  lions;  so  they  stepped 


there  is  no  back,  and  went  behind.     At  this  their  guide 

danger,  out 

shrink  when          smiled,  and  said.  How  now,  my  boys,  do  you 

troubles  come.  . 

love  to  go  before,  when  no  danger  doth  ap- 

proach, and  love  to  come  behind  so  soon  as  the  lions  appear  ? 

Now  as  they  went  up,  Mr.  Great-heart  drew  his  sword, 

with  intent  to  make  a  way  for  the  pilgrims  in 
^iant^nfof  spite  of  the  lions.  Then  there  appeared  one 

that'  it:  seems,  had  taken  upon  him  to  back  the 

lions;  and  he  said  to  the  pilgrims'  guide,  What 
is  the  cause  of  your  coming  hither  ?  Now  the  name  of  that 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  227 

man  was  Grim,  or  Bloody-man,  because  of  his  slaying  of 
pilgrims,  and  he  was  of  the  race  of  the  giants. 

GREAT-HEART.  Then  said  the  pilgrims'  guide,  These 
women  and  children  are  going  on  pilgrimage,  and  this  is  the 
way  they  must  go,  and  go  it  they  shall  in  spite  of  thee  and 
the  lions. 

GRIM.  This  is  not  their  way,  neither  shall  they  go  therein. 
I  am  come  forth  to  withstand  them,  and  to  that  end  will  back 
the  lions. 

Now  to  say  truth,  by  reason  of  the  fierceness  of  the  lions, 
and  of  the  grim  carriage  of  him  that  did  back  them,  this 
way  had  of  late  lain  much  unoccupied,  and  was  almost  all 
grown  over  with  grass. 

CHRIS.     Then  said  Christiana,  Though  the  highways  have 

been  unoccupied  heretofore,  and  though  the  travellers  have 

been  made  in  time  past  to  walk  through  by- 

Judges  v.  6,  7.  . 

paths,  it  must  not  be  so  now  I  am  risen.     Now 
"I  am  risen  a  mother  in  Israel." 

GRIM.  Then  he  swore  by  the  lions,  but  it  should;  and 
therefore  bid  them  turn  aside,  for  they  should  not  have  pas- 
sage there. 

GREAT-HEART.  But  their  guide  made  first  his  approach 
unto  Grim,  and  laid  so  heavily  at  him  with  his  sword,  that 
he  forced  him  to  a  retreat. 

GRIM.  Then  said  he  (that  attempted  to  back  the  lions), 
Will  you  slay  me  upon  mine  own  ground  ? 

GREAT-HEART.     'Tis  the  King's  highway  that  we  are  in, 

and  in  his  way  it  is  that  thou  hast  placed  thy  lions ;  but  these 

women,  and  these  children,  though  weak,  shall 

betwixt  Grim         hold  on  their  way  in  spite  of  thy  lions.     And 

with  that  he  gave  him  again  a  downright  blow, 

and  brought  him  upon  his  knees.     With  this  blow  he  also 

broke  his  helmet,  and  with  the  next  he  cut  off 

The  victory. 

an  arm.     Then  did  the  giant  roar  so  hideously, 
that  his  voice  frighted  the  women ;  and  yet  they  were  glad  to 


228  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

see  him  lie  sprawling  upon  the  ground.     Now  the  lions  were 

chained,  and  so  of  themselves  could  do  nothing.     Wherefore, 

when  old  Grim,  that  intended  to  back  them,  was  dead,  Mr. 

Great-heart  said  to  the  pilgrims,  Come  now  and  follow  me, 
and  no  hurt  shall  happen  to  you  from  the  lions. 

Jhelions3.8  bv        They  therefore  went  on,  but  the  women  trem- 
bled as  they  passed  by  them;   the  boys  also 

looked  as  if  they  would  die,  but  they  all  got  by  without 

further  hurt. 

Now  then  they  were  within  sight  of  the  Porter's  Lodge,  and 

they  soon  came  up  unto  it;  but  they  made  the  more  haste 
after  this  to  go  thither,  because  'tis  dangerous 

They  come  to  •**'•'*'«'     i '  i 

the  Porters  travelling  there  in  the  night.     So  when  they 

were  come  to  the  gate,  the  guide  knocked,  and 
the  Porter  cried,  Who  is  there?  But  as  soon  as  the  guide 
bad  said,  It  is  I,  he  knew  his  voice,  and  came  down  (for  the 
guide  had  oft  before  that  corne  thither  as  a  conductor  of  pil- 
grims). When  he  was  come  down,  he  opened  the  gate,  and 
seeing  the  guide  standing  just  before  it  (for  he  saw  not  the 
women,  for  they  were  behind  him)  he  said  unto  him,  How 
now,  Mr.  Great-heart  ?  what  is  your  business  here  so  late  to- 
night ?  I  have  brought,  said  he,  some  pilgrims  hither,  where 
by  my  Lord's  commandment,  they  must  lodge.  I  had  been 
here  some  time  ago,  had  I  not  been  opposed  by  the  giant 
that  did  use  to  back  the  lions;  but  I,  after  a  long  and  tedious 
combat  with  him,  have  cut  him  off,  and  have  brought  the 
pilgrims  hither  in  safety. 

PORTER.     Will  you  not  go  in,  and  stay  till  morning  ? 

GREAT-HEART.     No;    I    will    return    to    my 

JSreat-heart  -r        i    .         •    i  , 

attempts  to  go          Lord  to-night. 

j$riJt*to»  CHRIS.  Oh,  Sir,  I  know  not  how  to  be  will- 
^company  jng  vou  should  leave  us  in  our  pilgrimage;  you 
have  been  so  faithful  and  so  loving  to  us,  you 
have  fought  so  stoutly  for  us,  you  have  been  so  hearty  in 
counselling  of  us,  that  I  shall  never  forget  your  favor  towards 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  229 

MERCY.  Then  said  Mercy,  O  that  we  might  have  thy 
company  to  our  journey's  end  !  How  can  such  poor  women 
as  we,  hold  out  in  a  way  so  full  of  troubles  as  this  way  is, 
without  a  friend  and  defender? 

JAMES.  Then  said  James,  the  youngest  of  the  boys,  Pray, 
Sir,  be  persuaded  to  go  with  us,  and  help  us,  because  we  are 
so  weak,  and  the  way  so  dangerous  as  it  is. 

GREAT-HEART.     I  am  at  my  Lord's  commandment.     If  he 

shall  allot  me  to  be  your  guide  quite  through,  I  will  willingly 

wait  upon  you.     But  here  you  failed  at  first; 

Help  lost  /o."  H  ii-i  Ii  t  -^ 

want  of  asking       for  when  he  bid  me  come  thus  far  with  you, 

then  you  should  have  begged  me  of  him  to 
have  gone  quite  through  with  you,  and  he  would  have  granted 
your  request.  However,  at  present  I  must  withdraw;  and 
so,  good  Christiana,  Mercy,  and  my  brave  children,  Adieu. 

Then  the  Porter,  Mr.  Watchful,  asked  Christiana  of  her 
country,  and  of  her  kindred.  And  she  said,  I  came  from  the 

City  of  Destruction,  I  am  a  widow  woman,  and 
T>age  55.  my  husband  is  dead,  his  name  was  Christian 

Christiana  makes  the  pilgrim.  How,  said  the  Porter;  was  he 
th?ptt™7et0  y°ur  husband?  Yes,  said  she,  and  these  are 
damsel10  °  ^*s  children;  and  this,  pointing  to  Mercy,  is  one 

of  my  towns  women.  Then  the  Porter  rang  his 
bell,  as  at  such  times  he  is  wont,  and  there  came  to  the  door 
one  of  the  damsels,  whose  name  was  Humble-mind.  And  to 
her  the  Porter  said,  Go,  tell  it  within,  that  Christiana,  the 

wife  of  Christian,  and  her  children,  are  come 

Joy  at  the  noise  .  . 

of  'the  pilgrims'      hither  on  pilgrimage.     She  went  in,  therefore, 
and  told  it.     But  oh !  what  a  noise  for  gladness 

was  there  within,  when  the  damsel  did  but  drop  that  word 

out  of  her  mouth. 

So  they  came  with  haste  to  the  Porter,  for 

lhkind™danl     Christiana  stood  still  at  the  door.     Then  some 

another  *"*  °^  *-he  most  grave  said  unto  her,  Come  in,  Chris- 

tiana; come  in,  thou  wife  of  that  good  man; 

come  in,  thou  blessed  woman;  come  in,  with  all  that  are  with 


230  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

thee.  So  she  went  in,  and  they  followed  her  that  were  her 
children  and  her  companions.  Now  when  they  were  gone 
in,  they  were  had  into  a  very  large  room,  where  they  were 
bidden  to  sit  down;  so  they  sat  down,  and  the  chief  of  the 
house  was  called  to  see,  and  welcome  the  guests.  Then  they 
came  in,  and  understanding  who  they  were,  did  salute  each 
other  with  a  kiss,  arid  said,  Welcome,  ye  vessels  of  the  grace 
of  God;  welcome  to  us  your  friends. 

Now  because  it  was  somewhat  late,  and  because  the  pil- 
grims were  weary  with  their  journey,  and  also  made  faint 
with  the  sight  of  the  fight,  and  of  the  terrible  lions,  therefore 
they  desired,  as  soon  as  might  be,  to  prepare  to  go  to  rest- 
Nay,  said  those  of  the  family,  refresh  yourselves  first  with  a 
morsel  of  meat.  For  they  had  prepared  for 

Exod.  xii.  38.  . 

them  a  lamb,  with  the  accustomed  sauce  be- 
longing thereto ;  for  the  Porter  had  heard  before 
of  their  coming,  and  had  told  it  to  them  within.  So  when 
they  had  supped,  and  ended  their  prayer  with  a  psalm,  they 
desired  they  might  go  to  rest.  But  let  us,  said  Christiana, 
if  we  may  be  so  bold  as  to  choose,  be  in  that 
page  64.  chamber  that  was  my  husband's  when  he  was 

fokrrall ^pilgri^s"  here-  So  ^ey  had  tnem  UP  thither,  and  they 
lay  all  in  a  room.  When  they  were  at  rest, 
Christiana  and  Mercy  entered  into  discourse  about  things 
that  were  convenient. 

CHRIS.  Little  did  I  think  once,  that  when  my  husband 
went  on  pilgrimage,  I  should  ever  have  followed. 

MERCY.  And  you  as  little  thought  of  lying  in  his  bed,  and 
in  his  chamber  to  rest,  as  you  do  now. 

CHRIS.  And  much  less  did  I  ever  think  of  seeing  his  face 
with  comfort,  and  of  worshipping  the  Lord  the  King  with 
him,  and  yet  now  I  believe  I  shall. 

MERCY.     Hark  !  don't  you  hear  a  noise  ? 

CHRIS.  Yes;  'tis,  as  I  believe,  a  noise  of  music,  for  joy 
that  we  are  here. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  231 

MERCY.     Wonderful !     Music  in  the  house,  music  in  the 
heart,  and  music  also  in  heaven,  for  joy  that 

Music.  J   J 

we  are  here. 

Thus  they  talked  a  while,  and  then  betook  themselves  to 
sleep.  So  in  the  morning,  when  they  were  awake,  Christiana 
said  to  Mercy: 

CHRIS.     What  was  the  matter,  that  you  did 
**     laugh  in  your  sleep  to-night?     I  suppose  you 

were  in  a  dream. 

MERCY.  So  I  was,  and  a  sweet  dream  it  was;  but  are  you 
sure  I  laughed  ? 

CHRIS.  Yes;  you  laughed  heartily:  but  prithee,  Mercy, 
tell  me  thy  dream. 

MERCY.     I  was   a-d reaming   that  I  sat  all 

Mercys  dream.  .  . 

alone  in  a  solitary  place,  and  was  bemoaning  of 
the  hardness  of  my  heart. 

Now  I  had  not  sat  there  long,  but  methought  many  were 
gathered  about  me,  to  see  me,  and  to  hear  what  it  was  that  I 

said.  So  they  hearkened,  and  I  went  on  be- 
Treafrfwas.  moaning  the  hardness  of  my  heart.  At  this, 

some  of  them  laughed  at  me,  some  called  me 
fool,  and  some  began  to  thrust  me  about.  With  that,  me- 
thought I  looked  up,  and  saw  one  coming  with  wings  towards 
me.  So  he  came  directly  to  me,  and  said,  Mercy,  what  ail- 
eth  thee  ?  Now  when  he  had  heard  me  make  my  complaint, 
he  said,  "Peace  be  to  thee."  He  also  wiped  mine  eyes  with 
his  handkerchief,  and  clad  me  in  silver  and  gold.  He  put  a 

chain  about  my  neck,  and   earrings   in   mine 

Ezek.  xm.  8-11.  * 

ears,  and  a  beautiful  crown  upon  my  head. 
Then  he  took  me  by  the  hand,  and  said,  Mercy,  come  after 
me.  So  he  went  up,  and  I  followed,  till  we  came  at  a  golden 
gate.  Then  he  knocked;  and  when  they  within  had  opened, 
the  man  went  in  and  I  followed  him  up  to  a  throne,  upon 
which  one  sat,  and  he  said  to  me,  Welcome,  daughter.  The 
place  looked  bright,  and  twinkling  like  the  stars,  or  rather 


232  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

like  the  sun,  and  I  thought  that  I  saw  your  husband  there. 
So  I  awoke  from  my  dream.     But  did  I  laugh  ? 

CHRIS.     Laugh  !  ay,  and  well  you  might,  to  see  yourself  so 

well.     For  you  must  give  me  leave  to  tell  you,  that  I  believe  it 

was  a  good  dream  ;  and  that,  as  you  have  begun 


second  at  last.  "God  speaks  once,  yea  twice, 
yet  man  perceiveth  it  not.  In  a  dream,  in  a  vision  of  the 
night,  when  deep  sleep  falleth  upon  men,  in  slumbering  upon 
the  bed."  We  need  not,  when  abed,  lie  awake  to  talk  with 
God;  he  can  visit  us  while  we  sleep,  and  cause  us  then  to 
hear  his  voice.  Our  heart  ofttimes  wakes  when  we  sleep; 
and  God  can  speak  to  that,  either  by  words,  by  proverbs,  by 
signs  and  similitudes,  as  well  as  if  one  was  awake. 

MERCY.     Well,  I  am  glad  of  my  dream,  for 
herrSeamd  °f       l  h°Pe  ere  long  to  see  li  fulfilled,  to  the  making 
of  me  laugh  again. 

CHRIS.  I  think  it  is  now  high  time  to  rise,  and  to  know 
what  we  must  do. 

MERCY.  Pray,  if  they  invite  us  to  stay  a  while,  let  us  will- 
ingly accept  of  the  proffer.  I  am  the  willinger  to  stay  a 
while  here,  to  grow  better  acquainted  with  these  maids;  me- 
thinks  Prudence,  Piety,  and  Charity  have  very  comely  and 
sober  countenances. 

CHRIS.  We  shall  see  what  they  will  do.  So  when  they 
were  up  and  ready,  they  came  down;  and  they  asked  one 
another  of  their  rest,  and  if  it  was  comfortable  or  not. 

MERCY.  Very  good,  said  Mercy;  it  was  one  of  the  best 
night's  lodging  that  ever  I  had  in  my  life. 

Then  said  Prudence  and  Piety,  If  you  will  be 
Jome  time  *"**       persuaded  to  stay  here  a  while,  you  shall  have 
what  the  house  will  afford. 

CHAR.  Ay,  and  that  with  a  very  good  will,  said  Charity. 
So  they  consented,  and  stayed  there  about  a  month  or  above, 
and  became  very  profitable  one  to  another.  And  because 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  233 

Prudence   would   see   how   Christiana  had  brought  up  her 

children,  she  asked  leave  of  her  to  catechise 

?0™aSisdeesireS    them.     So  she  gave  her  free  consent.     Then 

chtidreT"'*          sne  began  at  the   youngest,  whose  name  was 

James. 

PRUD.     And  she  said,  Come,  James,  canst  thou  tell  who 
made  thee? 

James  catechised.  ^ii-ni          s^     i      i       n  i 

JAMES.     God  the  Father,  God  the  Son,  and 
God  the  Holy  Ghost. 

PRUD.     Good  boy.     And  canst  thou  tell  who  saves  thee? 

JAMES.  God  the  Father,  God  the  Son,  and  God  the  Holy 
Ghost. 

PRUD.  Good  boy  still.  But  how  doth  God  the  Father 
save  thee? 

JAMES.     By  his  grace. 

PRUD.     How  doth  God  the  Son  save  thee? 

JAMES.     By  his  righteousness,  death,  and  blood,  and  life. 

PRUD.     And  how  doth  God  the  Holy  Ghost  save  thee? 

JAMES.  By  his  illumination,  by  his  renovation,  and  by 
his  preservation. 

Then  said  Prudence  to  Christiana,  You  are  to  be  com- 
mended for  thus  bringing  your  children.  I  suppose  I  need 
not  ask  the  rest  these  questions,  since  the  youngest  of  them 
can  answer  them  so  well.  I  will  therefore  now  apply  myself 
to  the  youngest  next. 

PRUD.     Then  she  said,  Come,  Joseph  (for  his 
catechised.  name  was  Joseph),  will  you  let  me  catechise 

you? 

JOSEPH.     With  all  my  heart. 

PRUD.     What  is  man? 

JOSEPH.  A  reasonable  creature,  so  made  by  God,  as  my 
brother  said. 

PRUD.     What  is  supposed  by  this  word  "saved"? 

JOSEPH.  That  man  by  sin  has  brought  himself  into  a  state 
of  captivity  and  misery. 


234  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

PRUD.  What  is  supposed  by  his  being  saved  by  the 
Trinity  ? 

JOSEPH.  That  sin  is  so  great  and  mighty  a  tyrant,  that 
none  can  pull  us  out  of  its  clutches  but  God;  and  that  God  is 
so  good  and  loving  to  man,  as  to  pull  him  indeed  out  of  this 
miserable  state. 

PRUD.     What  is  God's  design  in  saving  of  poor  men? 

JOSEPH.  The  glorifying  of  his  name,  of  his  grace  and  jus- 
tice, etc.,  and  the  everlasting  happiness  of  his  creature. 

PRUD.     Who  are  they  that  must  be  saved  ? 

JOSEPH.     Those  that  accept  of  his  salvation. 

PRUD.  Good  boy,  Joseph;  thy  mother  has  taught  thee 
well,  and  thou  hast  hearkened  to  what  she  has  said  unto  thee. 

Then  said  Prudence  to  Samuel,  who  was  the  eldest  but  one: 
PRUD.     Come,  Samuel,  are  you  willing  that 
catted.  !  should  catechise  you  also  ? 

SAMUEL.     Yes,  forsooth,  if  you  please. 

PRUD.     What  is  heaven? 

•     SAM.     A  place  and  state  most  blessed,  because  God  dwell- 
eth  there. 

PRUD.     What  is  hell? 

SAM.  A  place  and  state  most  woful,  because  it  is  the 
dwelling-place  of  sin,  the  devil,  and  death. 

PRUD.     Why  wouldest  thou  go  to  heaven  ? 

SAM.  That  I  may  see  God,  and  serve  him  without  weari- 
ness; that  I  may  see  Christ,  and  love  him  everlastingly;  that 
I  may  have  that  fulness  of  the  Holy  Spirit  in  me,  that  I  can 
by  no  means  here  enjoy. 

PRUD.    A  very  good  boy  also,  and  one  that  has  learned  well. 
Then   she   addressed   herself   to   the   eldest, 
catwhised  whose  name  was  Matthew ;  and  she  said  to  him, 

Come,  Matthew,  shall  I  also  catechise  you  ? 

MATT.     With  a  very  good  will. 

PRUD.  I  ask  then,  if  there  was  ever  anything  that  had  a 
being  antecedent  to,  or  before  God  ? 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  235 

MATT.  No,  for  God  is  eternal;  nor  is  there  anything  ex- 
cepting himself  that  had  a  being  until  the  beginning  of  the 
first  day:  "For  in  six  days  the  Lord  made  heaven  and  earth, 
the  sea,  and  all  that  in  them  is." 

PRUD.     What  do  you  think  of  the  Bible? 

MATT.     It  is  the  holy  Word  of  God. 

PRUD.  Is  there  nothing  written  therein  but  what  you 
understand  ? 

MATT.     Yes;  a  great  deal. 

PRUD.  WThat  do  you  do  when  you  meet  with  such  places 
therein  that  you  do  not  understand  ? 

MATT.  I  think  God  is  wiser  than  I.  I  pray  also  that  he 
will  please  to  let  me  know  all  therein  that  he  knows  will  be 
for  my  good. 

PRUD.  How  believe  you  as  touching  the  resurrection  of 
the  dead  ? 

MATT.  I  believe  they  shall  rise,  the  same  that  was  buried, 
the  same  in  nature,  though  not  in  corruption.  And  I  believe 
t4iis  upon  a  double  account:  First,  because  God  has  prom- 
ised it;  Secondly,  because  he  is  able  to  perform  it. 

Then  said  Prudence  to  the  boys,  You  must  still  hearken 
to  your  mother,  for  she  can  learn  you  more.  You  must  also 
diligently  give  ear  to  what  good  talk  you  shall 
n  upon  hear  from  others,  for,  for  your  sakes  do  they 

Itblvshisin9°f  sPeak  good  thinSs-  Observe,  also,  and  that 
with  carefulness,  what  the  heavens  and  the 
earth  do  teach  you;  but  especially  be  much  in  the  meditation 
of  that  book  that  was  the  cause  of  your  father's  becoming  a 
pilgrim.  I  for  my  part,  my  children,  will  teach  you  what  I 
can  while  you  are  here,  and  shall  be  glad  if  you  will  ask  me 
questions  that  tend  to  godly  edifying. 

Now  by  that  these  pilgrims  had  been  at  this 
sweetheart  °         place  a  week,  Mercy  had  a  visitor  that  pre- 
tended some  good-will  unto  her,  and  his  name 
was  Mr.  Brisk;  a  man  of  some  breeding,  and  that  pretended 


236  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

to  religion,  but  a  man  that  stuck  very  close  to  the  world.  So 
he  came  once  or  twice  or  more  to  Mercy,  and  offered  love 
unto  her.  Now  Mercy  was  of  a  fair  countenance,  and  there- 
fore the  more  alluring. 

Her  mind  also  was,  to  be  always  busying  of  herself  in 

doing;  for  when  she  had  nothing  to  do  for  herself,  she  would 

be  making  of  hose  and  garments  for  others,  and 

Mercy  s  temper, 

would  bestow  them  upon  them  that  had  need. 
And  Mr.  Brisk,  not  knowing  where  or  how  she  disposed  of 
what  she  made,  seemed  to  be  greatly  taken,  for  that  he  found 
her  never  idle.  I  will  warrant  her  a  good  housewife,  quoth 
he  to  himself. 

Mercy  then   revealed  the  business  to   the  maidens  that 
were  of  the  house,  and  inquired  of  them  con- 
maid™*      earning  him,  for  they  did  know  him  better  than 

she-   So  they told  her  that  he  was  a  very  bugy 

young  man,  and  one  that  pretended  to  religion, 
but  was,  as  they  feared,  a  stranger  to  the  power  of  that  which 
was  good. 

Nay  then,  said  Mercy,  I  will  look  no  more  on  him;  for  I 
purpose  never  to  have  a  clog  to  my  soul. 

Prudence  then  replied,  that  there  needed  no  great  matter 
of  discouragement  to  be  given  to  him,  her  continuing  so  as  she 
had  begun  to  do  for  the  poor  would  quickly  cool  his  courage. 

So  the  next  time  he  comes,  he  finds  her  at  her  old  work, 

a-making  of  things  for  the  poor.     Then  said  he,  What !  always 

Talk  betwixt          a^  ^ <?     Yes,  said  she,  either  for  myself,  or  for 

Mercy  and  others.     And   wrhat   canst   thou   earn   a   day  ? 

quoth  he.     I  do  these  things,  said  she,  "that  I 

1  Tim.  ri/17-19.  ,          .   ,     .  ,        ,       . 

may  be  rich  in  good  works,  laying  up  m  store 
a  good  foundation  against  the  time  to  come,  that  I  may  lay 

hold  on  eternal  life."  Why,  prithee,  what  dost 
andfwhyke' her'  thou  with  them?  said  he.  Clothe  the  naked, 

said  she.  With  that  his  countenance  fell.  So 
he  forbore  to  come  at  her  again.  And  when  he  was  asked 


THE   PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  237 

the  reason  why,  he  said  that  Mercy  was  a  pretty  lass,  but 
troubled  with  ill  conditions. 

When  he  had  left  her,  Prudence  said,  Did  I 
not  tell  thee  that  Mr.  Brisk  would  soon  forsake 

W^rcyln^          thee  ?  yea»  he  wil1  raise  UP  an  il]  reP°rt  °f  the6' 

™Ti  °d  mer°V  ^or  notwithstanding  his  pretense  to  religion, 
and  his  seeming  love  to  Mercy,  yet  Mercy  and 
he  are  of  tempers  so  different,  that  I  believe  they  will  never 
come  together. 

MERCY.  I  might  have  had  husbands  afore  now,  though  I 
spake  not  of  it  to  any;  but  they  were  such  as  did  not  like  my 
conditions,  though  never  did  any  of  them  find  fault  with  my 
person.  So  they  and  I  could  not  agree. 

PRUD.  Mercy  in  our  days  is  little  set  by,  any  further  than 
as  to  its  name:  the  practice,  which  is  set  forth,  by  thy  condi- 
tions, there  are  but  few  that  can  abide. 

MERCY.  Well,  said  Mercy,  if  nobody  will  have  me,  I  will 
die  a  maid,  or  my  conditions  shall  be  to  me  as  a  husband. 
For  I  cannot  change  my  nature,  and  to  have 
resolution.  °ne  that  lies  cross  to  me  in  this,  that  I  purpose 

Haw  Mercy's  never  to  admit  of,  as  long  as  I  live.  I  had  a 
sister  was  served  sister  named  Bountiful,  that  was  married  to 

by  her  husband. 

one  of  these  churls;  but  he  and  she  could  never 
agree;  but  because  my  sister  was  resolved  to  do  as  she  had 
begun,  that  is,  to  show  kindness  to  the  poor,  therefore  her 
husband  first  cried  her  down  at  the  cross,  and  then  turned 
her  out  of  his  doors. 

PRUD.     And  yet  he  was  a  professor,  I  warrant  you  ? 
MERCY.     Yes,  such  a  one  as  he  was,  and  of  such  as  he, 
the  world  is  now  full :  but  I  am  for  none  of  them  all. 

Now  Matthew,  the  eldest  son  of  Christiana,  fell  sick,  and 
his   sickness  was   sore   upon   him,   for  he  was 
Matthew  falls        mucn  pained  'm  }ns  bowels,  so  that  he  was  with 
it,   at   times,  pulled   as    'twere   both   ends   to- 
gether.    There  dwelt  also  not  far  from  thence,  one  Mr.  Skill, 


238  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

an  ancient  and  well-approved  physician.  So  Christiana  de- 
sired it,  and  they  sent  for  him,  and  he  came.  When  he  was 
entered  the  room,  and  had  a  little  observed  the  boy,  he  con- 
Gri  es  of  eluded  that  he  was  sick  of  the  gripes.  Then 

conscience.  he  said  to  his  mother,  What  diet  has  Matthew 

The  physicians  of  late  fed  upon ?  Diet !  said  Christiana,  noth- 
ing but  that  which  is  wholesome.  The  physi- 
cian answered,  This  boy  has  been  tampering  with  something 
that  lies  in  his  maw  undigested,  and  that  will  not  away  with- 
out means.  And  I  tell  you  that  he  must  be  purged,  or  else 
he  will  die. 

SAM.     Then  said  Samuel,  Mother,  mother,  what  was  that 

which  my  brother  did  gather  up  and  eat,  so  soon  as  wTe  were 

come  from  the  gate  that  is  at  the  head  of  this 

mother  m'mind      way?     You  know  that  there  was  an  orchard 

brotherrdid  eat.        °n  the  left  liand»  °n  the  °tller  side  °f  the  Wal1' 

and  some  of  the  trees  hung  over  the  wall,  and 
my  brother  did  plash  and  did  eat. 

CHRIS.  True,  my  child,  said  Christiana,  he  did  take 
thereof,  and  did  eat;  naughty  boy  as  he  was,  I  did  chide  him, 
and  yet  he  would  eat  thereof. 

SKILL.  I  knew  he  had  eaten  something  that  was  not 
wholesome  food;  and  that  food,  to  wit,  that  fruit,  is  even  the 
most  hurtful  of  all.  It  is  the  fruit  of  Beelzebub's  orchard. 
I  do  marvel  that  none  did  warn  you  of  it;  many  have  died 
thereof. 

CHRIS.  Then  Christiana  began  to  cry;  and  she  said,  O 
naughty  boy !  and  O  careless  mother !  what  shall  I  do  for  my 
son? 

SKILL.  Come,  do  not  be  too  much  dejected;  the  boy  may 
do  well  again,  but  he  must  purge  and  vomit. 

CHRIS.  Pray,  sir,  try  the  utmost  of  your  skill  with  him, 
whatever  it  costs. 

SKILL.  Nay,  I  hope  I  shall  be  reasonable.  So  he  made 
him  a  purge;  but  it  was  too  weak.  'Twas  said  it  was  made 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  239 

of  the  blood  of  a  goat,  the  ashes  of  an  heifer,  and  with  some 

Potion  prepared  °^  tne  Ju*ce  °^  hyssop,  etc-  When  Mr.  Skill 
had  seen  that  that  purge  was  too  weak,  he 

Heb.  x.  1-4.  11- 

made  him  one  to  the  purpose,    twas  made  ex 

The  Latin  I  .         „,-..,  ,  i        - 

borrow.  came  et  sanguine  Chnsti  (you  know  physi- 

cians give  strange  medicines  to  their  patients), 

and  it  was  made  up  into  pills,  with  a  promise  or  two,  and  a 
proportionable  quantity  of  salt.  Now  he  was 
to  take  them  three  at  a  time  fasting,  in  half  a 
quarter  of  a  pint  of  the  tears  of  repentance. 

take  \he  ^xic  °  When  tn^s  P°ti°n  was  prepared  and  brought 
to  the  boy,  he  was  loath  to  take  it,  though  torn 

with  the  gripes,  as  if  he  should  be  pulled  in  pieces.     Come, 

come,  said  the  physician,  you  must  take  it.     It  goes  against 

Z  h  xii  10         mv  stomacn»  sa^  tne  boy.     I  must  have  you 

take  it,  said  his  mother.     I  shall  vomit  it  up 

again,  said  the  boy.     Pray,  sir,  said  Christiana  to  Mr.  Skill, 

how  does  it  taste?     It  has  no  ill  taste,  said  the  doctor;  and 

with  that  she  touched  one  of  the  pills  with  the 

The  mother 

tastes  it,  and  tip  of  her  tongue.  Oh,  Matthew,  said  she,  this 
potion  is  sweeter  than  honey.  If  thou  lovest 
thy  mother,  if  thou  lovest  thy  brothers,  if  thou  lovest  Mercy, 
if  thou  lovest  thy  life,  take  it.  So  with  much  ado,  after  a 
short  prayer  for  the  blessing  of  God  upon  it,  he  took  it,  and 
it  wrought  kindly  with  him.  It  caused  him  to  purge,  it 
caused  him  to  sleep  and  rest  quietly,  it  put  him  into  a  fine 
heat  and  breathing  sweat,  and  did  quite  rid  him  of  his 


AvordofGod 

in  the  hand  of  So  in  little  time  he  got  up,  and  walked  about 

with  a  staff,  and  would  go  from  room  to  room, 
and  talk  with  Prudence,  Piety,  and  Charity  of  his  distemper, 
and  how  he  was  healed. 

...     _  So   when    the   boy   was   healed,    Christiana 

asked  Mr.  Skill  saying,  Sir,  what  will  content 

you  for  your  pains  and  care  to  and  of  my  child  ?     And  he 


240  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

said,  You  must  pay  the  Master  of  the  College  of  Physicians, 
according  to  rules  made,  in  that  case,  and  provided. 

CHRIS.     But,  Sir,  said  she,  what  is  this  pill  good  for  else? 
SKILL.     It    is    an    universal    pill;    'tis    good 
universal  Remedy,    against  all  the  diseases  that  pilgrims  are  inci- 
dent to,  and  when  it  is  well  prepared,  it  will 
keep  good,  time  out  of  mind. 

CHRIS.     Pray,  Sir,  make  me  up  twelve  boxes  of  them,  for 
if  I  can  get  these,  I  will  never  take  other  physic. 

SKILL.     These  pills  are  good  to  prevent  diseases,  as  well 

as  to  cure  when  one  is  sick.     Yea,  I  dare  say  it,  and  stand  to 

John  vi  so  ^>  that  ^  a  man  wiM  DU^  use  this  physic  as  he 

should,  it  will   make  him    live   forever.     But, 

In  a  glass  of 

the  tears  of  good  Christiana,  thou  must  give  these  pills  no 

other  way  but  as  I  have  prescribed;  fcr  if  you 
do,  they  will  do  no  good.  So  he  gave  unto  Christiana  physic 
for  herself,  and  her  boys,  and  for  Mercy,  and  bid  Matthew 
take  heed  how  he  eat  any  more  green  plums,  and  kissed  them 
and  went  his  way. 

It  was  told  you  before  that  Prudence  bid  the  boys,  that  if  at 

any  time  they  would,  they  should  ask  her  some  questions  that 

might  be  profitable,  and  she  would  say  something  to  them. 

MATT.     Then  Matthew,  who  had  been  sick, 

Of  physic. 

asked  her,  Why,  for  the  most  part,  physic 
should  be  bitter  to  our  palates  ? 

PRUD.     To  show  how  unwelcome  the  Word  of  God  and  the 
effects  thereof  are  to  a  carnal  heart. 

MATT.     Why  does  physic,  if  it  does  good, 

PurSe>  and  cause  that  we  vomit ' 

PRUD.     To   show   that  the  Word,   when   it 
works  effectually,  cleanseth  the  heart  and  mind.     For  look, 
what  the  one  doth  to  the  body,  the  other  doth  to  the  soul. 
Of  fire  and  MATT.     What  should  we  learn  by  seeing  the 

flame  of  our  fire  go  upwards  ?  and  by  seeing  the 
beams  and  sweet  influences  of  the  sun  strike  downwards? 
PRUD.     By  the  going  up  of  the  fire  we  are  taught  to  ascend 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  241 

to  heaven  by  fervent  and  hot  desires;  and  by  the  sun  sending 
his  heat,  beams,  and  sweet  influences  downwards,  we  are 
taught  that  the  Saviour  of  the  world,  though  high,  reaches 
down  with  his  grace  and  love  to  us  below. 

MATT.     Where  have  the  clouds  their  water  ? 

Of  the  clouds. 

PRUD.     Out  ot  the  sea. 
MATT.     What  may  we  learn  from  that  ? 
PRUD.     That  ministers  should  fetch  their  doctrine  from 
God. 

MATT.     Why  do  they  empty  themselves  upon  the  earth? 
PRUD.     To  show  that  ministers  should  give  out  what  they 
know  of  God  to  the  world. 

MATT.     Why  is  the  rainbow  caused  by  the 

Of  the  rainbow. 

sun? 

PRUD.  To  show  that  the  covenant  of  God's  grace  is  con- 
firmed to  us  in  Christ. 

MATT.     Whv  do  the  springs  come  from  the 

Of  the  springs. 

sea  to  us  through  the  earth  ? 

PRUD.  To  show  that  the  grace  of  God  comes  to  us  through 
the  body  of  Christ. 

MATT.  Why  do  some  of  the  springs  rise  out  of  the  tops 
of  high  hills? 

PRUD.  To  show  that  the  spirit  of  grace  shall  spring  up 
in  some  that  are  great  and  mighty,  as  well  as  in  many  that 
are  poor  and  low. 

MATT.     Why  doth  the  fire  fasten  upon  the 

Of  the  candle.  ' 

candle-wick  : 

PRUD.  To  show  that  unless  grace  doth  kindle  upon  the 
heart,  there  will  be  no  true  light  of  life  in  us. 

MATT.  Why  is  the  wick,  and  tallow,  and  all,  spent  to 
maintain  the  light  of  the  candle  ? 

PRUD.     To  show  that  body,  and  soul,  and  all,  should  be 
at  the  service  of,  and  spend  themselves  to  maintain  in  good 
condition  that  grace  of  God  that  is  in  us. 

MATT.     Why  doth  the  pelican  pierce  her  own 
breast  with  her  bill? 


242  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

PRUD.  To  nourish  her  young  ones  with  her  blood,  and 
thereby  to  show  that  Christ  the  blessed  so  loveth  his  young, 
his  people,  as  to  save  them  from  death  by  his  blood. 

ock  MATT.     What  may  one  learn  by  hearing  the 

cock  to  crow? 

PRUD.  Learn  to  remember  Peter's  sin,  and  Peter's  repen- 
tance. The  cock's  crowing  shows  also  that  day  is  coming  on ; 
let  then  the  crowing  of  the  cock  put  thee  in  mind  of  that  last 
terrible  day  of  judgment. 

Now  about  this  time  their  month  was  out:  wherefore  they 
signified  to  those  of  the  house  that  'twas  convenient  for  them 

to  up  and  be  going.     Then  said  Joseph  to  his 
U       mother,  It  is  convenient  that  you  forget  not  to 

send  to  the  house  of  Mr.  Interpreter  to  pray 

him  to  grant  that  Mr.  Great-heart  should  be 
sent  unto  us,  that  he  may  .be  our  conductor  the  rest  of  our 
way.  Good  boy,  said  she,  I  had  almost  forgot.  So  she  drew 
up  a  petition,  and  prayed  Mr.  Watchful  the  Porter  to  send 
it  by  some  fit  man  to  her  good  friend  Mr.  Interpreter;  who, 
when  it  was  come,  and  he  had  seen  the  contents  of  the  peti- 
tion, said  to  the  messenger,  Go  tell  them  that  I  will  send 
him. 

When  the  family  where  Christiana  wras  saw  that  they  had 
a  purpose  to  go  forward,  they  called  the  whole  house  together, 

to  give  thanks  to  their  King  for  sending  of 
to  be  gone  them  such  profitable  guests  as  these.  Which 

done,  they  said  to  Christiana,  And  shall  we 
not  show  thee  something,  according  as  our  custom  is  to  do 
to  pilgrims,  on  which  thou  mayest  meditate  when  thou  art 
upon  the  way?  So  they  took  Christiana,  her  children,  and 

Mercy,  into  the  closet,  and  showed  them  one 

of  the  apples  that  Eve  did  eat  of,  and  that  she 

fs  amazing*™        also  did  Sive  to  her  husband,   and   that  for 
Gen.  m.  6.  ^ne  eating  of  which  they  both  were  turned  out 

Kom.  vn.  z4. 

of  Paradise,  and  asked  her  what  she  thought 
that  was?  Then  Christiana  said,  'Tis  food  or  poison,  I 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  243 

know  not  which.     So  they  opened  the  matter  to  her,  and  she 
held  up  her  hands  and  wondered. 

Then  they  had  her  to  a  place,  and  showed  her  Jacob's  lad- 
der.    Now  at  that  time  there  were  some  angels  ascending 
upon  it.     So  Christiana  looked,  and  looked,  to 

Jacob  s  ladder. 

see  the  angels  go  up;  and  so  did  the  rest  of  the 
company.  Then  they  were  going  into  another  place  to  show 
them  something  else;  but  James  said  to  his  mother,  Pray  bid 
A  sight  of  Chnst  them  stav  ^ere  a  little  longer,  for  this  is  a  curi- 
is  taking.  Ous  sight.  So  they  turned  again,  and  stood 

Gen.  xxvm.  12.  ,.,.  .  ,       ,.  _ 

John  i.  51.  feeding  their  eyes  with  this  so  pleasant  a  pros- 

pect.    After  this,  they  had  them  into  a  place 
where  did  hang  up  a  golden  anchor,  so  they  bid 
Christiana  take  it  down;  For,  said  they,  you  shall  have  it 
with  you,  for  'tis  of  absolute  necessity  that  you  should,  that 
you  may  lay  hold  of  that  within  the  veil,  and  stand  steadfast, 
in  case  you  should  meet  with  turbulent  weather :  So  they  were 
glad  thereof.     Then  they  took  them,  and  had 
offering  u™          them  to  the  mount  upon  which  Abraham  our 
ot*?am.  9.          father  had  offered  up  Isaac  his  son,  and  showed 
them  the  altar,   the  wood,   the  fire,  and  the 
knife,  for  they  remain  to  be  seen  to  this  very  day.     When 
they  had  seen  it,  they  held  up  their  hands  and  blessed  them- 
selves, and  said,  Oh,  what  a  man  for  love  to  his  Master,  and 
for  denial  to  himself,  was  Abraham.     After  they 
vi^inals'3  had  showed  them  all  these  things, Prudence  took 

them  into  the  dining-room,  where  stood  a  pair 
of  excellent  virginals:  so  she  played  upon  them,  and  turned 
what  she  had  showed  them  into  this  excellent  song,  saying: 

Eve's  apple  we  have  showed  you, 

Of  that  be  you  aware; 
You  have  seen  Jacob's  ladder,  too, 

Upon  which  angels  are. 
An  anchor  you  received  here; 

But  let  not  these  suffice, 
Until  with  Abra'm  you  have  gave 

Your  best,  a  sacrifice. 


244  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

Now  about  this  time  one  knocked  at  the  door;  so  the  Por- 
ter opened,   and  behold  Mr.   Great-heart  was  there.     But 
when  he  was  come  in,  what  joy  was  there  !     For 
li  came  now  fresn  again  into  their  minds,  how 
but  a  while  ago  he  had  slain  old  Grim  Bloody- 
man  the  giant,  and  had  delivered  them  from  the  lions. 

Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart  to  Christiana,  and  to  Mercy, 
„  ,  .  My  Lord   has   sent  each  of  you  a  bottle   of 

He  brings  a 

token  from  kis       wine,  and   also   some   parched   corn,  together 

Lord  vnth  him.  .  .  •  .   .    • 

with  a  couple  of  pomegranates.  He  has  also 
sent  the  boys  some  figs,  and  raisins  to  refresh  you  in  your 
way. 

Then  they  addressed  themselves  to  their  journey;  and  Pru- 
dence and  Piety  went  along  with  them.  When  they  came 
at  the  gate,  Christiana  asked  the  Porter  if  any  of  late  went 
by.  He  said,  No,  only  one,  some  time  since;  who  also  told 
me  that  of  late  there  had  been  a  great  robbery 
committed  on  the  King's  highway,  as  you  go; 
but  he  saith  the  thieves  are  taken,  and  will  shortly  be  tried 
for  their  lives.  Then  Christiana  and  Mercy  were  afraid; 
but  Matthew  said,  Mother,  fear  nothing,  as  long  as  Mr. 
Great-heart  is  to  go  with  is,  and  to  be  our  conductor. 

Then  said  Christiana  to  the  Porter,  Sir,  I  am  much  obliged 

to  you  for  all  the  kindnesses  that  you  have  showed  me  since 

.  .        I  came  hither;  and  also  for  that  you  have  been 

Lnristiana  takes 

her  leave  of  the       so  loving  and  kind  to  my  children.     I  know  not 
how  to  gratify  your  kindness;  wherefore  pray, 
as  a  token  of  my  respects  to  you,  accept  of  this  small  mite. 
So  she  put  a  gold  angel  in  his  hand,  and  he  made  her  a  low 
obeisance,  and  sa*id,  Let  thy  garments  be  al- 
ways  white,  and  let  thy  head  want  no  ointment. 
Let  Mercy  live,  and  not  die,  and  let  not  her 
works  be  few.     And  to  the  boys  he  said,  Do  you  fly  youthful 
lusts,  and  follow  after  godliness  with  them  that  are  grave 
and  wise;  so  shall  you  put  gladness  into  your  mother's  heart, 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  245 


and  obtain  praise  of  all  that  are  sober-minded.     So  they 
thanked  the  Porter,  and  departed. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  that  they  went  forward  until 
they  were  come  to  the  brow  of  the  hill,  where  Piety,  bethink- 
ing herself,  cried  out,  Alas !  I  have  forgot  what  I  intended  to 
'bestow  upon  Christiana  and  her  companions;  I  will  go  back 
and  fetch  it.  So  she  ran  and  fetched  it.  While  she  was 
gone,  Christiana  thought  she  heard  in  a  grove,  a  little  way 
off,  on  the  right  hand,  a  most  curious  melodious  note,  with 
words  much  like  these — 

Through  all  my  life  thy  favor  is 

So  frankly  show'd  to  me, 
That  in  thy  house  forevermore 

My  dwelling-place  shall  be. 

And,  listening  still,  she  thought  she  heard  another  answer 
it,  saying — 

For  why  ?     The  Lord  our  God  is  good, 

His  Mercy  is  forever  sure; 
His  truth  at  all  times  firmly  stood, 
And  shall  from  age  to  age  endure. 

So  Christiana  asked  Prudence  what  it  was  that  made  these 
curious  notes?     They  are,  said  she,  our  country  birds;  they 
sing  these  notes  but  seldom,  except  it  be  at  the 

Song  ii.  11,  12. 

spring,  when  the  flowers  appear,  and  the  sun 
shines  warm,  and  then  you  may  hear  them  all  day  long.  I 
often,  said  she,  go  out  to  hear  them;  we  also  ofttimes  keep 
them  tame  in  our  house.  They  are  very  fine  company  for  us 
when  we  are  melancholy;  also  they  make  the  woods,  and 
groves,  and  solitary  places,  places  desirous  to  be  in. 

By  this  time  Piety  was  come  again;  so  she  said  to  Chris- 
tiana, Look  here,  I  have  brought  thee  a  scheme  of  all  those 
things  that  thou  hast  seen  at  our  house,  upon 

Piety  bestowelh  ,  °  *. 

»<mething  on         which  thou  mayest  look  when  thou  nndest  thy- 

them  at  parting.  i         n      i  i  • 

self  forgetful,  and  call  those  things  again  to 
remembrance  for  thy  edification  and  comfort. 


246  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

Now  they  began  to  go  down  the  hill  into  the  Valley  of 
Humiliation.     It  was  a  steep  hill,  and  the  way  was  slippery; 

but  they  were  very  careful,  so  they  got  down 
page  68  pretty  well.  When  they  were  down  in  the 

valley,  Piety  said  to  Christiana,  This  is  the 
place  where  Christian  your  husband  met  with  the  foul  fiend 
Apollyon,  and  where  they  had  that  dreadful  fight  that  they 
had;  I  know  you  cannot  but  have  heard  thereof.  But  be  of 
good  courage;  as  long  as  you  have  here  Mr.  Great-heart  to 
be  your  guide  and  conductor,  we  hope  you  will  fare  the  bet- 
ter. So  when  these  two  had  committed  the  pilgrims  unto 
the  conduct  of  their  guide,  he  went  forward,  and  they  went 
after. 

GREAT-HEART.     Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  We  need  not 
to  be  so  afraid  of  this  valley,  for  here  is  nothing  to  hurt  us, 

unless  we  procure  it  to  ourselves.  'Tis  true, 
at  the  Valley  Christian  did  here  meet  with  Apollyon,  with 

whom  he  also  had  a  sore  combat:  but  that  fray 
was  the  fruit  of  those  slips  that  he  got  in  his  going  down  the 
hill;  for  they  that  get  slips  there,  must  look  for  combats  here. 
And  hence  it  is  that  this  valley  has  got  so  hard  a  name.  For 

the  common  people,  when  they  hear  that  some 
Page  69  frightful  thing  has  befallen  such  an  one  in  such 

a  place,  are  of  an  opinion  that  that  place  is 
haunted  with  some  foul  fiend  or  evil  spirit;  when,  alas,  it  is 
for  the  fruit  of  their  doing,  that  such  things  do  befall  them 
there. 

This  Valley  of  Humiliation  is  of  itself  as  fruitful  a  place 

as  any  the  crow  flies  over;  and  I  am  persuaded 

The  reason  why  ,  .  •  '«  '  .  J»   .  i 

Christian  was  so     if  we  Could  hit  upon  it,  we  might  find  some- 
where hereabouts  something  that   might  give 
us  an  account  why  Christian  was  so  hardly  beset  in  this 
place. 

Then  James  said  to  his  mother,  Lo,  yonder  stands  a  pillar, 
and  it  looks  as  if  something  was  written  thereon;  let  us  go 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  247 

and  see  what  it  is.     So  they  went,  and  found  there  written, 

Let  Christian's  slips  before  he  came  hither, 
fn^tionilonaS.  and  the  battles  that  he  met  with  in  this  place, 

be  a  warning  to  those  that  come  after.  Lo,  said 
their  guide,  did  not  I  tell  you  that  there  was  something  here- 
abouts that  would  give  intimation  of  the  reason  why  Chris- 
tian was  so  hard  beset  in  this  place?  Then  turning  himself 
to  Christiana,  he  said,  No  disparagement  to  Christian  more 
than  to  many  others  whose  hap  and  lot  his  was.  For  'tis 
easier  going  up  than  down  this  hill;  and  that  can  be  said  but 
of  few  hills  in  all  these  parts  of  the  world.  But  we  will  leave 
the  good  man,  he  is  at  rest,  he  also  had  a  brave  victory  over 
his  enemy:  let  Him  grant  that  dwelleth  above,  that  we  fare 
no  worse,  when  we  come  to  be  tried,  than  he. 

But  we  will  come  again  to  this  Valley  of  Humiliation.  It 
is  the  best  and  most  fruitful  piece  of  ground  in  all  those  parts. 

It  is  fat  ground,  and,  as  you  see,  consisteth 
brave  place  a  much  in  meadows;  and  if  a  man  was  to  come 

here  in  the  summer-time,  as  we  do  now,  if  he 
knew  not  anything  before  thereof,  and  if  he  also  delighted 
himself  in  the  sight  of  his  eyes,  he  might  see  that  that  would 
Son  „  j  be  delightful  to  him.  Behold  how  green  this 

valley  is ;  also  how  beautiful  with  lilies  !     I  have 

Men  thrive  in  . 

the  Valley  of         also  known  many  laboring  men  that  have  got 

Humiliation.  .       tl  .     TT   „  „  TT         .,.      .          /p 

James  iv.  6.  good  estates  in  this  Valley  ot  Humiliation  (for 
God  resisteth  the  proud,  but  gives  more,  more 
grace  to  the  humble) ;  for  indeed  it  is  a  very  fruitful  soil,  and 
doth  bring  forth  by  handfuls.  Some  also  have  wished  that 
the  next  way  to  their  Father's  house  were  here,  that  they 
might  be  troubled  no  more  with  either  hills  or  mountains  to 
go  over:  but  the  way  is  the  way,  and  there's  an  end. 

Now  as  they  were  going  along  and  talking,  they  espied  a 
boy  feeding  his  father's  sheep.  The  boy  was  in  very  mean 
clothes,  but  of  a  very  fresh  and  well-favored  countenance, 
and  as  he  sat  by  himself,  he  sang.  Hark,  said  Mr.  Great- 


248  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

heart,  to  what  the  shepherd's  boy  saith:  so  they  hearkened, 
and  he  said: 

He  that  is  down,  needs  fear  no  fall, 

He  that  is  low,  no  pride; 
Phil.  iv.  12,  13.  He  that  is  humble,  ever  shall 

Have  God  to  be  his  guide. 
I  am  content  with  what  I  have, 

Little  be  it,  or  much; 
And,  Lord,  contentment  still  I  crave, 

Because  thou  savest  such. 
Eeb.  xiii.  5.  Fulness  to  such  a  burden  is 

That  go  on  pilgrimage; 
Here  little,  and  hereafter  bliss, 

Is  best  from  age  to  age. 

Then  said  their  guide,  Do  you  hear  him?  I  will  dare  to 
say  that  this  boy  lives  a  merrier  life,  and  wears  more  of  that 
herb  called  heartsease  in  his  bosom,  than  he  that  is  clad  in 
silk  and  velvet.  But  we  will  proceed  in  our  discourse. 

In  this  valley  our  Lord  formerly  had  his  country  house. 
He  loved  much  to  be  here;  he  loved  also  to  walk  these  mead- 
r,  .  .  ,  .  ows,  for  he  found  the  air  was  pleasant.  Be- 

Lnnst,  when  in 

the  flesh,  had  his    sides,  here  a  man  shall  be  free  from  the  noise, 

country  house  in  .  •     i  •••     i»» 

the  Valley  of         and  from  the  hurryings  of  this  life.     All  states 

are  full  of  noise  and  confusion,  only  the  Valley 

of  Humiliation  is  that  empty  and  solitary  place.     Here  a  man 

shall  not  be  so  let  and  hindered  in  his  contemplation,  as  in 

other  places  he  is  apt  to  be.     This  is  a  valley  that  nobody 

walks  in,  but  those  that  love  a  pilgrim's  life.     And  though 

Christian  had  the  hard  hap  to  meet  here  with  Apollyon,  and 

to  enter  with  him  a  brisk  encounter,  yet  I  must 

Hos.  xn.  4,  5.  *.'•;•.« 

tell  you,  that  in  former  times  men  have  met 
with  angels  here,  have  found  pearls  here,  and  have  in  this 
place  found  the  words  of  life. 

Did  I  say  our  Lord  had  here  in  former  days  his  country 
house,  and  that  he  loved  here  to  walk?  I  will  add,  in  this 
place,  and  to  the  people  that  live,  and  trace  these  grounds,  he 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  249 

had  left  a  yearly  revenue,  to  be  faithfully  paid  them  at  cer- 
tain seasons,  for  their  maintenance  by  the  way, 

Matt.  xi.  29. 

and  for  their  further  encouragement  to  go  on 
in  their  pilgrimage. 

SAMUEL.  Now,  as  they  went  on,  Samuel  said  to  Mr. 
Great  -heart,  Sir,  I  perceive  that  in  this  valley  my  father  and 
Apollyon  had  their  battle;  but  whereabout  was  the  fight?  for 
I  perceive  this  valley  is  large. 

GREAT-HEART.     Your  father  had  that  battle  with  Apoll- 

yon at  a  place  yonder,  before  us,  in  a  narrow  passage  just 

beyond    Forgetful    Green.     And    indeed    that 

Forgetful  Green.  .  .         ,,     , 

place  is  the  most  dangerous  place  in  all  these 
parts.  For  if  at  any  time  the  pilgrims  meet  with  any  brunt, 
it  is  when  they  forget  what  favors  they  have  received,  and 
how  unworthy  they  are  of  them.  This  is  the  place  also  where 
others  have  been  hard  put  to  it.  But  more  of  the  place  when 
we  are  come  to  it;  for  I  persuade  myself,  that  to  this  day 
there  remains  either  some  sign  of  the  battle,  or  some  monu- 
ment to  testify  that  such  a  battle  there  was  fought. 

MERCY.  Then  said  Mercy,  I  think  I  am  as  well  in  this 
valley,  as  I  have  been  anywhere  else  in  all  our  journey;  the 

place  methinks  suits  with  my  spirit.  I  love  to 
?we™lgrace  ^e  *n  sucn  P^aces  where  there  is  no  rattling  with 

coaches,  nor  rumbling  with  wheels.  Methinks 
here  one  may,  without  much  molestation,  be  thinking  what 
he  is,  whence  he  came,  what  he  has  done,  and  to  what  the 
King  has  called  him.  Here  one  may  think,  and  break  at 
heart,  and  melt  in  one's  spirit,  until  one's  eyes  become  like 

tne  fish-P00!8  °f  Hesbon.     They  that  go  rightly 


Son  vii  4 

through  this  Valley  of  Baca  make  it  a  well;  the 

Pa.  Ixxxiv.  5-7. 

ram  that  God  sends  down  from  heaven  upon 

them  that  are  here  also  filleth  the  pools.     This 

valley  is  that  from  whence  also  the  King  will  give  to  them 

vineyards;  and  they  that  go  through  it  shall  sing  (as  Chris- 

tian did,  for  all  he  met  with  Apollyon). 


250  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

GREAT-HEART.     'Tis  true,  said  their  guide.     I  have  gone 
through  this  valley  many  a  time,  and  never  was 


I  have  also  been  a  conductor  to  several  pil- 
grims, and  they  have  confessed  the  same,  "To  this  man  will 
I  look,"  saith  the  King,  "even  to  him  that  is  poor,  and  of  a 
contrite  spirit,  and  that  trembles  at  my  Word." 

Now  they  were  come  to  the  place  where  the  aforementioned 

battle  was  fought.     Then  said  the  guide  to  Christiana,  her 

children,  and  Mercy,  This  is  the  place;  on  this 

Christian  and  ™     ground   Christian   stood,   and   up   there  came 


Apollyon  against  him.  And  look,  did  not  I 
ngns  of  the  fe\\  yOU  p  here  Js  some  of  vour  husband's  blood 

battle  remain. 

upon  these  stones  to  this  day  !  Behold,  also, 
how  here  and  there  are  yet  to  be  seen  upon  the  place  some 
of  the  shivers  of  Apollyon's  broken  darts.  See  also  how 
they  did  beat  the  ground  with  their  feet  as  they  fought,  to 
make  good  their  places  against  each  other;  how  also,  with 
their  by-blows,  they  did  split  the  very  stones  in  pieces. 
Verily  Christian  did  here  play  the  man,  and  showed  himself  as 
stout,  as  could,  had  he  been  there,  even  Hercules  himself. 
When  Apollyon  was  beat,  he  made  his  retreat  to  the  next  val- 
ley, that  is  called  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death,  unto 
which  we  shall  come  anon. 

Lo,  yonder  also  stands  a  monument,  on  which  is  engraven 

this  battle,  and  Christian's  victory,  to  his  fame 
fal™™eni  °f  throughout  all  ages.  So,  because  it  stood  just 

on  the  wayside  before  them,  they  stepped  to  it, 
and  read  the  writing,  which,  word  for  word,  was  this  — 

Hard  by,  here  was  a  battle  fought, 
A  monument  of  __ 

Christian's  Most  strange,  and  yet  most  true; 

Christian  and  Apollyon  sought 

Each  other  to  subdue. 
The  man  so  bravely  play'd  the  man, 

He  made  the  fiend  to  fly; 
Of  which  a  monument  I  stand, 

The  same  to  testify. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  251 

When  they  had  passed  by  this  place,  they  came  upon  the 
borders  of  the  Shadow  of  Death;  and  this  valley  was  longer 
than  the  other;  a  place  also  most  strangely 
page  74  haunted  with  evil  things,  as  many  are  able  to 

testify.  But  these  women  and  children  went 
the  better  through  it,  because  they  had  daylight,  and  because 
Mr.  Great-heart  was  their  conductor. 

When  they  were  entered  upon  this  valley,  they  thought 
that  they  heard  a  groaning,  as  of  dead  men — a  very  great 

groaning.  They  thought  also  thev  did  hear 
Groaning*  heard.  '  °  9  * 

words  of  lamentation  spoken,  as  or  some  in  ex- 
treme torment.  These  things  made  the  boys  to  quake,  the 
woman  also  looked  pale  and  wan;  but  their  guide  bid  them 
be  of  good  comfort. 

So  they  went  on  a  little  further,  and  they  thought  that 
they  felt  the  ground  begin  to  shake  under  them,  as  if  some 
hollow  place  was  there;  they  heard  also  a  kind 
°^  hissmg»  as  of  serpents,  but  nothing  as  yet 
appeared.  Then  said  the  boys,  Are  we  not  yet 
at  the  end  of  this  doleful  place  ?  But  the  guide  also  bid  them 
be  of  good  courage,  and  look  well  to  their  feet,  lest  haply, 
said  he,  you  be  taken  in  some  snare. 

Now  James  began  to  be  sick,  but  I  think  the  cause  thereof 

was  fear;  so  his  mother  gave  him  some  of  that  glass  of  spirits 

that   she   had  given  her  at   the  Interpreter's 

house> and  three  of  the  pills  that  Mr- skm  had 

prepared;  and  the  boy  began  to  revive.  Thus 
they  went  on  till  they  came  to  about  the  middle  of  the  val- 
ley, and  then  Christiana  said,  Methinks  I  see  something  yon- 
The  fond  der  uPon  the  road  before  us,  a  thing  of  such  a 

appears.  shape  such  as  I  have  not  seen.  Then  said  Jo- 

The  pilgrims  seph,  Mother,  what  is  it  ?  An  ugly  thing, 

child,  an  ugly  thing,  said  she.  But,  mother, 
what  is  it  like  ?  said  he.  'Tis  like  I  cannot  tell  what,  said  she. 
And  now  it  was  but  a  little  way  off.  Then  said  she,  It  is 
nigh. 


252  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

Well,  well,  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  let  them  that  are  most 

afraid  keep  close  to  me.     So  the  fiend  came  on, 

encourages  them,    and  the  conductor  met  it;  but  when  it  was 

James  iv  7  ius^  come  to  him,  it  vanished  to  all  their  sights. 

Then  remembered   they  what  had   been   said 

some  time  ago:  "Resist  the  devil,  and  he  will  flee  from  you/' 

They  went  therefore  on,  as  being  a  little  refreshed;  but 

they  had  not  gone  far  before  Mercy,  looking  behind  her,  saw, 

as  she  thought,  something,  most  like  a  lion,  and 

A  lion.  .  i'ii 

it  came  a  great  padding  pace  alter;  and  it  had 
a  hollow  voice  of  roaring,  and  at  every  roar  that  it  gave  it 
made  all  the  valley  echo,  and  their  hearts  to  ache,  save  the 
heart  of  him  that  was  their  guide.     So  it  came  up,  and  Mr. 
Great-heart  went  behind,  and  put  the  pilgrims  all  before  him. 
The  lion  also  came  on  apace,  and  Mr.  Great- 
heart   addressed   himself   to   give   him   battle. 
But  when  he  saw  that  it  was  determined  that  resistance 
should  be  made,  he  also  drew  back  and  came  no  farther. 

Then  they  went  on  again,  and  their  conductor  did  go  be- 
fore them,  till  they  came  at  a  place  where  was  cast  up  a  pit, 
the  whole  breadth  of  the  way,  and  before  they 
$arknessd  could  be  prepared  to  go  over  that,  a  great  mist 

and  a  darkness  fell  upon  them,  so  that  they 
could  not  see.  Then  said  the  pilgrims,  Alas !  now  what  shall 
we  do?  But  their  guide  made  answer,  Fear  not;  stand  still 
and  see  what  an  end  will  be  put  to  this  also.  So  they  stayed 
there  because  their  path  was  marred.  They  then  also  thought 
that  they  did  hear  more  apparently  the  noise  and  rushing  of 
the  enemies,  the  fire  also  and  the  smoke  of  the  pit  was  much 
easier  to  be  discerned.  Then  said  Christiana 

Christiana  now 

knows  what  her  to  Mercy,  Now  I  see  what  my  poor  husband 
went  through;  I  have  heard  much  of  this  place, 
but  I  was  never  here  afore  now.  Poor  man  !  he  went  here  all 
alone  in  the  night;  he  had  night  almost  quite  through  the 
way;  also  these  fiends  were  busy  about  him,  as  if  they  would 


THE   PILGRIM'S   PROGRESS  253 

have  torn  him  in  pieces.  Many  have  spoke  of,  but  none  can 
tell  what  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  should  mean,  until  they 
come  in  it  themselves.  "The  heart  knows  its  own  bitterness, 
and  a  stranger  intermeddleth  not  with  its  joy."  To  be  here 
is  a  fearful  thing. 

GREAT-HEART.     This  is  like  doing  business  in  great  waters, 
or  like  going  down  into  the  deep;  this  is  like  being  in  the  heart 

of  the  sea,  and  like  going  dowrn  to  the  bottoms 
%ply~hearCs  cf  tne  mountains;  now  it  seems  as  if  the  earth, 

with  its  bars,  were  about  us  forever.  "But  let 
them  that  walk  in  darkness,  and  have  no  light,  trust  in  the 
name  of  the  Lord,  and  stay  upon  their  God."  For  my  part, 
as  I  have  told  you  already,  I  have  gone  often  through  this 
valley,  and  have  been  much  harder  put  to  it  than  now  I  am, 
and  yet  you  see  I  am  alive.  I  wrould  not  boast,  for  that  I 
am  not  mine  own  saviour;  but  I  trust  we  shall  have  a  good 
deliverance.  Come,  let  us  pray  for  light  to  Him  that  can 
lighten  our  darkness,  and  that  can  rebuke,  not  only  these, 
but  all  the  Satans  in  hell. 

So  they  cried  and  prayed,  and  God  sent  light  and  deliver- 
ance, for  there  was  now  no  let  in  their  way;  no,  not  there, 

where  but  now  thev  were  stopped  with  a  pit. 

I  hey  pray. 

Yet  they  were  not  got  through  the  valley;  so 
they  went  on  still,  and,  behold,  great  stinks  and  loathsome 
smells,  to  a  great  annoyance  of  them.  Then  said  Mercy  to 
Christiana,  There  is  not  such  pleasant  being  here  as  at  the 
gate,  or  at  the  Interpreter's,  or  at  the  house  where  we  lay 
last. 

Oh,  but,  said  one  of  the  boys,  it  is  not  so  bad  to  go  through 

here  as  it  is  to  abide  here  always,  and  for  aught 

?eplyf tke  boys      I  know,  one  reason  why  we  must  go  this  way 

to  the  house  prepared  for  us,  is,  that  our  home 

might  be  made  the  sweeter  to  us. 

Well  said,  Samuel,  quoth  the  guide,  thou  hast  now  spoke 
like  a  man.     Why,  if  ever  I  get  out  here  again,  said  the  boy, 


254  THE   PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

I  think  I  shall  prize  light  and  good  way  better  than  ever  I 
did  in  all  my  life.  Then  said  the  guide,  We  shall  be  out  by 
and  by. 

So  on  they  went,  and  Joseph  said,  Cannot  we  see  to  the 

end  of  this  valley  as  yet?     Then  said  the  guide,  Look  to 

your  feet,  for  voti  shall  presently  be  among  the 

Heedless  is  slam,     "  i"'iii  i     •     p  i 

and  Take-heed       snares.     So  they  looked  to  their  leet,  and  went 

on;  but  they  were  troubled  much  with  the 
snares.  Now  when  they  were  come  among  the  snares,  they 
espied  a  man  cast  into  the  ditch  on  the  left  hand,  with  his 
flesh  all  rent  and  torn.  Then  said  the  guide,  That  is  one  Heed- 
less, that  was  agoing  this  way;  he  has  lain  there  a  great  while. 
There  was  one  Take-heed  with  him,  when  he  was  taken  and 
slain;  but  he  escaped  their  hands.  You  cannot  imagine  how 
many  are  killed  hereabout,  and  yet  men  are  so  foolishly  ven- 
turous, as  to  set  out  lightly  on  pilgrimage,  and  to  come  with- 
out a  guide.  Poor  Christian !  it  was  a  wonder  that  he  here 
escaped;  but  he  was  beloved  of  his  God;  also  he  had  a  good 

heart  of  his  own,  or  else  he  could  never  have 
paje/so,  si.  done  it.  Now  they  drew  towards  the  end  of 
Maul  a  Giant.  ^e  wav>  an^  Just  there  where  Christian  had 

seen  the  cave  when  he  went  by,  out  thence  came 
forth  Maul,  a  Giant.  This  Maul  did  use  to  spoil  young  pil- 
grims with  sophistry;  and  he  called  Great-heart  by  his  name, 

and  said  unto  him,  How  many  times  have  you 
rt.    been  forbidden  to  do  these  things ?     Then  said 

Mr.  Great-heart,  What  things  ?  What  things  ! 
quoth  the  Giant,  you  know  what  things;  but  I  will  put  an 
end  to  your  trade.  But  pray,  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  before 
we  fall  to  it,  let  us  understand  wherefore  we  must  fight.  Now 
the  women  and  children  stood  trembling,  and  knew  not  what 
to  do.  Quoth  the  Giant,  You  rob  the  country,  and  rob  it 
with  the  worst  of  thefts.  These  are  but  generals,  said  Mr. 
Great-heart,  come  to  particulars,  man. 

Then  said  the  Giant,  Thou  practisest  the  craft  of  a  kid- 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  255 

napper,  thou  gatherest  up  women  and  children,  and  carriest 
„  „      ...          them  into  a  strange  country,  to  the  weakening 

hod  s  ministers 

counted  as  of  my  master's  kingdom.     But  now  Great-heart 

kidnappers. 

replied:  I  am  a  servant  of  the  God  of  heaven; 

The  Giant  and  ,  , 

Mr.  Great-heart  my  business  is  to  persuade  sinners  to  repen- 
tance; I  am  commanded  to  do  my  endeavor  to 
turn  men,  women,  and  children  from  darkness  to  light,  and 
from  the  power  of  Satan  to  God;  and  if  this  be  indeed  the 
ground  of  thy  quarrel,  let  us  fall  to  it  as  soon  as  thou  wilt. 

Then  the  Giant  came  up,  and  Mr.  Great-heart  went  to 
meet  him;  and  as  he  went  he  drew  his  sword,  but  the  Giant 
Weak  folks'  nac^  a  c^u^-  ^°  without  more  ado  they  fell  to 
prayers  do  Jt,  and  at  the  first  blow  the  Giant  struck  Mr. 

sometimes  help 

strong  folks  Great-heart  down  upon  one  of  his  knees.  With 

that  the  wromen  and  children  cried  out;  so  Mr. 
Great-heart,  recovering  himself,  laid  about  him  in  full  lusty 
manner,  and  gave  the  Giant  a  wound  in  his  arm.  Thus  he 
fought  for  the  space  of  an  hour,  to  that  height  of  heat,  that 
the  breath  came  out  of  the  Giant's  nostrils  as  the  heat  doth 
out  of  a  boiling  caldron. 

Then  they  sat  down  to  rest  them,  but  Mr.  Great-heart  be- 
took him  to  prayer;  also  the  women  and  children  did  nothing 
but  sigh  and  cry  all  the  time  that  the  battle  did  last. 

When  they  had  rested  them,  and  taken  breath,  they  both 
fell  to  it  again,  and  Mr.  Great-heart,  with  a  full  blow,  fetched 
the  Giant  down  to  the  ground.  Nay,  hold,  and 
ItrucfdoL.  let  me  recover,  quoth  he.  So  Mr.  Great-heart 
fairly  let  him  get  up.  So  to  it  they  went  again, 
and  the  Giant  missed  but  little  of  ail-to  breaking  Mr.  Great- 
heart's  skull  with  his  club. 

Mr.  Great-heart,  seeing  that,  runs  to  him  in  the  full  heat 
of  his  spirit,  and  pierceth  him  under  the  fifth  rib;  with  that 
the  Giant  began  to  faint,  and  could  hold  up  his  club  no  longer. 
Then  Mr.  Great-heart  seconded  his  blow,  and  smit  the  head 
of  the  Giant  from  his  shoulders.  Then  the  women  and  chil- 


256  THE   PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

dren  rejoiced,  and  Mr.  Great-heart  also  praised  God  for  the 
deliverance  he  had  wrought. 

When   this   was   done,   they  amongst   them 

He  is  slain,  .  . 

and  his  head         erected  a  pillar,  and  fastened  the  Giant's  head 
thereon,  and  wrote  underneath,  in  letters  that 
passengers  might  read — 

He  that  did  wear  this  head,  was  one 

That  pilgrims  did  misuse; 
He  stopp'd  their  way,  he  spared  none, 

But  did  them  all  abuse; 
Until  that  I,  Great-heart,  arose, 

The  pilgrims'  guide  to  be; 
Until  that  I  did  him  oppose, 

That  was  their  enemy. 

Now  I  saw,  that  they  went  to  the  ascent  that  was  a  little 
way  off,  cast  up  to  be  a  prospect  for  pilgrims  (that  was  the 
place  from  whence  Christian  had  the  first  sight 
PW  si.  of  Faithful,  his  brother) .     Wherefore  here  they 

sat  down  and  rested ;  they  also  here  did  eat  and 
drink,  and  make  merry;  for  that  they  had  gotten  deliverance 
from  this  so  dangerous  an  enemy.     As  they  sat  thus  and  did 
eat,  Christiana  asked  the  guide  if  he  had  caught  no  hurt  in 
the  battle.     Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  No,  save  a  little  on 
my  flesh;  yet  that  also  shall  be  so  far  from  being  to  my  deter- 
ment, that  it  is  at  present  a  proof  of  my  love  to 
my  Master,  and  you,  and  shall  be  a  means  by 
grace  to  increase  my  reward  at  last. 

CHRIS.  But  were  you  not  afraid,  good  Sir, 
?heCfights.  °*  when  you  saw  him  come  out  with  his  club ? 

GREAT-HEART.  It  is  my  duty,  said  he,  to 
distrust  mine  own  ability,  that  I  may  have  reliance  on  him 
that  is  stronger  than  all. 

CHRIS.     But  what  did  you  think  when  he  fetched  you 
down  to  the  ground  at  the  first  blow  ? 

GREAT-HEART.     Why,  I  thought,  quoth  he,  that  so  my 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  257 

Master  himself  was  served,  and  yet  he  it  was  that  conquered 
at  the  last. 

MATT.     When  you  all  have  thought  what  you  please,  I 

think  God  has  been  wonderful  good  unto  us,  both  in  bringing 

us  out  of  this  valley,  and  in  delivering  us  out 

Malt,  here  .    J 

admires  of  the  hand  of  this  enemy;  for  my  part,  I  see 

no  reason  why  we  should  distrust  our  God  any 

more,  since  he  has  now,  and  in  such  a  place  as  this,  given  us 

such  testimony  of  his  love  as  this. 

Then  they  got  up  and  went  forward.     Now  a  little  before 

them  stood  an  oak,  and  under  it,  when  they  came  to  it,  they 
found  an  old  pilgrim  fast  asleep.     They  knew 

Old  Ilonest  •  i       •         i         i  •         i       i 

Weep  under  that  he  was  a  pilgrim  by  his  clothes,  and  his 
staff,  and  his  girdle.  So  the  guide,  Mr.  Great- 
heart,  awaked  him,  and  the  old  gentleman,  as  he  lift  up  his 
eyes,  cried  out,  What's  the  matter?  who  are  you?  and  what 
is  your  business  here? 

GREAT-HEART.  Come,  man,  be  not  so  hot;  here  is  none 
but  friends.  Yet  the  old  man  gets  up  and  stands  upon  his 
guard,  and  will  know  of  them  what  they  were.  Then  said  the 
guide,  My  name  is  Great-heart:  I  am  the  guide  of  these  pil- 
grims, which  are  going  to  the  Celestial  Country. 

HON.     Then   said   Mr.   Honest,   I   cry   you 
sometimes  takes      mercy.     I  feared  that  you  had  been  of  the  com- 


***         Pany  °f  th°se  that  SOme  time  ag°  did  rob  Little- 

faith  of  his  money  ;  but  now  I  look  better  about 
me,  I  perceive  you  are  honester  people. 

GREAT-HEART.     Whv,  what  would  or  could 

Talk  between 

Great-heart  and  you  have  done  to  have  helped  yourself,  if  we  in- 
deed had  been  of  that  company  ? 

HON.  Done  !  why,  I  would  have  fought  as  long  as  breath 
had  been  in  me;  and  had  I  so  done,  I  am  sure  you  could  never 
have  given  me  the  worst  on't;  for  a  Christian  can  never  be 
overcome,  unless  he  shall  yield  of  himself. 

GREAT-HEART.     Well  said,  Father  Honest,  quoth  the  guide, 


258  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

for  by  this  I  know  thou  art  a  cock  of  the  right  kind,  for  thou 
hast  said  the  truth. 

HON.  And  by  this  also  I  know  that  thou  knowest  what 
true  pilgrimage  is,  for  all  others  do  think  that  we  are  the 
soonest  overcome  of  any. 

GREAT-HEART.  Well,  now  we  are  so  happily  met,  pray  let 
me  crave  your  name,  and  the  name  of  the  place  you  came 
from. 

HON.     My  name  I  cannot:  but  I  came  from  the  Town  of 
Stupidity;  it  lieth  about  four  degrees  beyond 
a±«£.         the  City  of  Destruction. 

GREAT-HEART.  Oh !  are  you  that  country- 
man then  ?  I  deem  I  have  half  a  guess  of  you :  your  name  is 
old  Honesty,  is  it  not  ? 

So  the  old  gentleman  blushed,  and  said,  Not  Honesty  in 
the  abstract,  but  Honest  is  my  name,  and  I  wish  that  my 
nature  shall  agree  to  what  I  am  called. 

HON.     But,  sir,  said  the  old  gentleman,  how  could  you 

guess  that  I  am  such  a  man,  since  I  came  from  such  a  place? 

GREAT-HEART.     I  had  heard  of   you  before, 

a^ePworse°than       by  my  Master;  for  he  knows  all  things  that  are 

farnaL6^  done  on  the  earth:  but  I  have  often  wondered 
that  any  should  come  from  your  place,  for  your 
town  is  worse  than  is  the  City  of  Destruction  itself. 

HON.  Yes;  we  lie  more  off  from  the  sun,  and  so  are  more 
cold  and  senseless;  but  was  a  man  in  a  mountain  of  ice,  yet 
if  the  Sun  of  Righteousness  will  arise  upon  him,  his  frozen 
heart  shall  feel  a  thaw;  and  thus  it  hath  been  with  me. 

GREAT-HEART.  I  believe  it,  Father  Honest,  I  believe  it; 
for  I  know  the  thing  is  true. 

Then  the  old  gentleman  saluted  all  the  pilgrims  with  a  holy 
kiss  of  charity,  and  asked  them  of  their  names,  and  how  they 
had  fared  since  they  set  out  on  their  pilgrimage. 

CHRIS.  Then  said  Christiana,  My  name  I  suppose  you 
have  heard  of:  good  Christian  was  my  husband,  and  these  four 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  259 

were  his  children.     But  can  you  think  how  the  old  gentle- 
man was  taken,  when  she  told  them  who  she 
CMdianatafk.      was  !     He  skipped,  he  smiled,  and  blessed  them 

with  a  thousand  good  wishes,  saying: 

HON.     I  have  heard  much  of  your  husband,  and  of  his 

travels  and  wars  which  he  underwent  in  his  days.     Be  it 

spoken  to  your  comfort,  the  name  of  your  hus- 

withthe  bay*.        band  rings  all  over  these  parts  of  the  world :  his 

$^ng™nthem.    faith»  his  courage,  his  enduring,  and  his  sin- 

^Ps^xcix  6  cerity  under  all,  have  made  his  name  famous. 

Then  he  turned  him  to  the  boys,  and  asked  them 

of  their  names,  which  they  told  him.     And  then  said  he  unto 

them:  Matthew,  be  thou  like  Matthew  the  publican,  not  in 

vice,  but  in  virtue.     Samuel,  said  he,  be  thou  like  Samuel  the 

prophet,  a  man  of  faith  and  prayer.     Joseph, 

said  he,  be  thou  like  Joseph  in  Potiphar's  house, 

chaste,   and   one   that   flies   from   temptation. 

And  James,  be  thou  like  James  the  Just,  and  like  James  the 

brother  of  our  Lord. 

Then  they  told  him  of  Mercy,  and  how  she  had  left  her 
town  and  her  kindred  to  come  along  with  Christiana  and  with 
her  sons.     At  that,  the  old  honest  man  said, 
HeU^sseth  Mercy  is  thy  name?  by  Mercy  shalt  thou  be 

sustained,  and  carried  through  all  those  difficul- 
ties that  shall  assault  thee  in  thy  way,  till  thou  shalt  come 
thither  where  thou  shalt  look  the  Fountain  of  Mercy  in  the 
face  with  comfort. 

All  this  while  the  guide,  Mr.  Great-heart,  was  very  much 
pleased,  and  smiled  upon  his  companion. 

Xow  as  they  walked  along  together,  the  guide  asked  the  old 
gentleman  if  he  did  not  know  one  Mr.  Fearing, 
fa1* Fearing.         tnat  came  on  pilgrimage  out  of  his  parts. 

HON.  Yes,  very  well,  said  he.  He  was  a  man 
that  had  the  root  of  the  matter  in  him;  but  he  was  one  of  the 
most  troublesome  pilgrims  that  ever  I  met  with  in  all  my  days. 


260  THE   PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

GREAT-HEART.  I  perceive  you  knew  him,  for  you  havt 
given  a  very  right  character  of  him. 

HON.  Knew  him!  I  was  a  great  companion  of  his;  I  was 
with  him  most  an  end;  when  he  first  began  to  think  of  whal 
would  come  upon  us  hereafter,  I  was  with  him. 

GREAT-HEART.  I  was  his  guide  from  my  Master's  hous* 
to  the  gates  of  the  Celestial  City. 

HON.     Then  you  knew  him  to  be  a  troublesome  one  ? 

GREAT-HEART.  I  did  so !  but  I  could  very  well  bear  it,  foi 
men  of  my  calling  are  oftentimes  intrusted  with  the  condud 
of  such  as  he  was. 

HON.  Well  then,  pray  let  us  hear  a  little  of  him,  anc 
how  he  managed  himself  under  your  conduct. 

GREAT-HEART.     Why,  he  wras  always  afraid  that  he  shoulc 

come  short  of  whither  he  had  a  desire  to  go.     Everything 

Mr  Fearin  's        frightened  .him  that  he  heard  anybody  speak  of 

troublesome  that  had  but  the  least  appearance  of  opposition 

in  it.     I  hear  that  he  lay  roaring  at  the  Slougt 

His  behavior  at  „    ^  ,     „  , 

the  Slough  of  or  Despond  lor  above  a  month  together;  noi 
durst  he,  for  all  he  saw  several  go  over  befon 
him,  venture,  though  the3r,  many  of  them,  offered  to  lend  hire 
their  hand.  He  would  not  go  back  again  neither.  The  Celestia 
City,  he  said  he  should  die  if  he  came  not  to  it,  and  yet  was 
dejected  at  every  difficulty,  and  stumbled  at  every  straw  thai 
anybody  cast  in  his  way.  Well,  after  he  had  lain  at  the  Slougl 
of  Despond  a  great  while,  as  I  have  told  you,  one  sunshim 
morning,  I  do  not  know  how,  he  ventured,  and  so  got  over 
But  when  he  was  over,  he  would  scarce  believe  it.  He  had 
I  think,  a  Slough  of  Despond  in  his  mind,  a  slough  that  h 
carried  everywhere  with  him,  or  else  he  would  never  hav 
been  as  he  was.  So  he  came  up  to  the  gate,  you  know  wha 
I  mean,  that  stands  at  the  head  of  this  wa\ 

KteaVi°r  at        and   there  als°  he  St°°d  a  g°°d  While  bef°re  h 

would  adventure  to  knock.     When  the  gate  wa 
opened  he  would  give  back,  and  give  place  to  others,  and  sa; 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  261 

that  he  was  not  worthy.  For,  for  all  he  got  before  some  to 
the  gate,  yet  many  of  them  went  in  before  him.  There  the 
poor  man  would  stand  shaking  and  shrinking;  I  dare  say  it 
would  have  pitied  one's  heart  to  have  seen  him:  Nor  would 
he  go  back  again.  At  last  he  took  the  hammer  that  hanged 
on  the  gate  in  his  hand,  and  gave  a  small  rap  or  two;  then 
one  opened  to  him,  but  he  shrank  back  as  before.  He  that 
opened  stept  out  after  him,  and  said,  Thou  trembling  one, 
what  wantest  thou  ?  With  that,  he  fell  to  the  ground.  He 
that  spoke  to  him  wondered  to  see  him  so  faint;  so  he  said  to 
him,  Peace  be  to  thee;  up,  for  I  have  set  open  the  door  to 
thee;  come  in,  for  thou  art  blest.  With  that  he  got  up,  and 
went  in  trembling,  and  when  he  was  in,  he  was  ashamed  to 
show  his  face.  Well,  after  he  had  been  entertained  there  a 
while,  as  yo  ;  know  how  the  manner  is,  he  was  bid  go  on  his 
way,  and  also  told  the  way  he  should  take.  So  he  came  till 
he  came  to  our  house;  but  as  he  behaved  himself  at  the  gate, 
so  he  did  at  my  Master  the  Interpreter's  door. 

His  behavior  at  . 

the  interpreter's  He  lay  thereabout  in  the  cold  a  good  while, 
before  he  would  adventure  to  call;  Yet  he  would 
not  go  back.  And  the  nights  were  long  and  cold  then.  Nay, 
he  had  a  note  of  necessity  in  his  bosom  to  my  Master  to 
receive  him,  and  grant  him  the  comfort  of  his  house,  and 
also  to  allow  him  a  stout  and  valiant  conductor,  because  he 
was  himself  so  chicken-hearted  a  man;  and  yet,  for  all  that, 
he  was  afraid  to  call  at  the  door.  So  he  lay  up  and  down 
thereabouts,  till,  poor  man,  he  was  almost  starved.  Yea,  so 
great  was  his  dejection,  that  though  he  saw  several  others  for 
knocking  got  in,  yet  he  was  afraid  to  venture.  At  last,  I 
think  I  looked  out  of  the  window,  and  perceiving  a  man  to 
be  up  and  down  about  the  door,  I  went  out  to  him,  and 
asked  what  he  was;  but,  poor  man,  the  water  stood  in  his 
eyes.  So  I  perceived  what  he  wanted.  I  went  therefore  in, 
and  told  it  in  the  house,  and  wre  showed  the  thing  to  our 
Lord:  so  he  sent  me  out  again,  to  entreat  him  to  come  in; 


262  THE   PILGRIM'S   PROGRESS 

but  I  dare  say  I  had  hard  work  to  do  it.     At  last  he  came  in, 

and  I  will  say  that  for  my  Lord,  he  carried  it 

^nteriaineT there,    wonderful  lovingly  to  him.     There  were  but  a 

"ncouraged^at  the     few  g°°d  bits  at  the  table'   bllt  SOme   °f  li  WaS 

Interpreter  a          \a[^  upon  his  trencher.     Then  he  presented  the 

house. 

note,  and  my  Lord  looked  thereon,  and  said  his 
desire  should  be  granted.  So  when  he  had  been  there  a  good 
while,  he  seemed  to  get  some  heart,  and  to  be  a  little  more 
comfortable.  For  my  Master,  you  must  know,  is  one  of  very 
tender  bowels,  specially  to  them  that  are  afraid;  wherefore  he 
carried  it  so  towards  him,  as  might  tend  most  to  his  encour- 
agement. Well,  when  he  had  had  a  sight  of  the  things  of  the 
place,  and  was  ready  to  take  his  journey  to  go  to  the  city, 
my  Lord,  as  he  did  to  Christian  before,  gave  him  a  bottle  of 
spirits,  and  some  comfortable  things  to  eat.  Thus  we  set 
forward,  and  I  went  before  him;  but  the  man  was  but  of  few 
words,  only  he  would  sigh  aloud. 

When  we  were  come  to  where  the  three  fellows  were  hanged, 

he  said  that  he  doubted  that  that  would  be  his  end  also. 

.,        Only  he  seemed  glad  when  he  saw  the  Cross 

He  was  greatly  ' 

afraid  when  he       and  the  Sepulchre.     There,  I  confess,  he  desired 

saw  the  gibbet, 

cheery  when  he  to  stay  a  little  to  look,  and  he  seemed  tor  a 
while  after  to  be  a  little  cheery.  When  we 
came  at  the  Hill  Difficulty,  he  made  no  stick  at  that,  nor  did 
he  much  fear  the  lions:  for  you  must  know  that  his  trouble 
was  not  about  such  things  as  those;  his  fear  was  about  his 
acceptance  at  last. 

I  got  him  in  at  the  house  Beautiful,  I  think,  before  he  was 
willing.  Also,  when  he  was  in,  I  brought  him  acquainted 
with  the  damsels  that  were  of  the  place;  but  he 
was  ashamed  to  make  himself  much  for  com- 
pany. He  desired  much  to  be  alone;  yet  he 
always  loved  good  talk,  and  often  would  get  behind  the 
screen  to  hear  it.  He  also  loved  much  to  see  ancient  things 
and  to  be  pondering  them  in  his  mind.  He  told  me  after-: 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  263 

wards  that  he  loved  to  be  in  those  two  houses  from  which  he 
came  last,  to  wit,  at  the  gate,  and  that  of  the  Interpreter; 
but  that  he  durst  not  be  so  bold  to  ask. 

When  we  went  also  from  the  house  Beautiful,  down  the 

hill,  into  the  Valley  of  Humiliation,  he  went  down  as  well  as 

ever  I  saw  a  man  in  my  life;  for  he  cared  not 

He  went  down  .  *  ' 

into,  and  was        how  mean  he  was,  so  he  might  be  happy  at 

very  pleasant  in,  -ri-ii  •  *-     i      • 

the  Valley  of         last.     Yea,  I  think  there  was  a  kind  of  a  sym- 
pathy betwixt  that  valley  and  him;  for  I  never 
saw  him  better  in  all  his  pilgrimage  than  when  he  was  in  that 
valley. 

Here  he  would  lie  down,  embrace  the  ground,  and  kiss  the 
very    flowers    that    grew    in    this    valley.     He 
would  now  be  up  every  morning  by  break  of 
day.  tracing  and  walking  to  and  fro  in  this  valley. 

But  when  he  was  come  to  the  entrance  of  the  Valley  of  the 
Shadow  of  Death,  I  thought  I  should  have  lost  my  man:  not 
for  that  he  had  any  inclination  to  go  back — that 
he  always  abhorred ;  but  he  was  ready  to  die  for 
L^°ICO/  fear-  Oh>  the  hobgoblins  will  have  me!  the 
hobgoblins  will  have  me !  cried  he;  and  I  could 
not  beat  him  out  on't.  He  made  such  a  noise,  and  such  an 
outcry  here,  that,  had  they  but  heard  him,  'twas  enough  to 
encourage  them  to  come  and  fall  upon  us. 

But  this  I  took  very  great  notice  of,  that  this  valley  was  as 
quiet  while  he  went  through  it,  as  ever  I  knew  it  before  or 
since.  I  suppose  those  enemies  here  had  now  a  special  check 
from  our  Lord,  and  a  command  not  to  meddle  until  Mr. 
Fearing  was  passed  over  it. 

It  would  be  too  tedious  to  tell  you  of  all.     We  will  there- 
fore only  mention  a  passage  or  two  more.     When  he  was  come 
at  Vanity  Fair,  I  thought  he  would  have  fought 

Vanity  TaTr.  *        with  al]  the  men  in  the  fair«       l  feared  there  WG 

should  both  have  been  knocked  on  the  head,  so 
hot  was  he  against  their  fooleries.     Upon,  the  Enchanted 


264  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

Ground  he  was  also  very  wakeful.  But  when  he  was  come 
at  the  river  where  was  no  bridge,  there  again  he  was  in  a 
heavy  case.  Now,  now,  he  said,  he  should  be  drowned  for- 
ever, and  so  never  see  that  face  with  comfort,  that  he  had 
come  so  many  miles  to  behold. 

And  here,  also,  I  took  notice  of  what  was  very  remarkable: 
the  water  of  that  river  was  lower  at  this  time  than  ever  I  saw 
it  in  all  my  life.  So  he  went  over  at  last,  not  much  above 
wet-shod.  When  he  was  going  up  to  the  gate, 
Mr-  Great-heart  began  to  take  his  leave  of  him, 
and  to  wish  him  a  good  reception  above.  So  he 
said,  I  shall,  I  shall.  Then  parted  we  asunder,  and  I  saw  him 
no  more. 

HON.     Then,  it  seems,  he  was  well  at  last. 
GREAT-HEART.     Yes,  yes;  I  never  had  doubt  about  him; 
he  was  a  man  of  a  choice  spirit,  only  he  was  always  kept  very 
p    ,       ...  low,  and  that  made  his  life  so  burdensome  to 

.  himself,  and  so  troublesome  to  others.     He  was, 

above  many,  tender  of  sin.     He  was  so  afraid  of 
doing  injuries  to  others,  that  he  often  would 
deny  himself  of  that  which  was  lawful,  because  he  would  not 
offend. 

HON.  But  what  should  be  the  reason  that  such  a  good 
man  should  be  all  his, days  so  much  in  the  dark? 

GREAT-HEART.  There  are  two  sorts  of  reasons  for  it. 
One  is,  the  wise  God  will  have  it  so:  some  must  pipe,  and 
Reason  wht  ood  some  mus^  weep.  Now  Mr.  Fearing  was  one 
men  are  so  in  that  plaved  upon  this  bass.  He  and  his  fel- 

the  dark. 

lows  found  the  sackbut,  whose  notes  are  more 

Matt.  xi.  16-18.       ,    ,    „   ,      .,  ,,  „        , , 

doleful  than  the  notes  or  other  music  are; 
though  indeed  some  say,  the  bass  is  the  ground  of  music. 
And,  for  my  part,  I  care  not  at  all  for  that  profession  that 
begins  not  in  heaviness  of  mind.  The  first  string  that  the 
musician  usually  touches  is  the  bass,  when  he  intends  to  put 
all  in  tune.  God  also  plays  upon  this  string  first,  when  he 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  265 

sets  the  soul  in  tune  for  himself.  Only  here  was  the  imper- 
fection of  Mr.  Fearing,  he  could  play  upon  no  other  music 
hut  this,  till  towards  his  latter  end. 

I  make  bold  to  talk  thus  metaphorically,  for  the  ripening 
of  the  wits  of  young  readers,  and  because,  in 
the  book  of  the  Revelations,  the  saved  are 

Chap.  xiv.  2,  3.  .  „  .    .  .  , 

compared  to  a  company  of  musicians  that  play 
iipon  their  trumpets  and  harps,  and  sing  their  songs  before 
the  throne. 

HON.  He  was  a  very  zealous  man,  as  one  may  see  by 
what  relation  you  have  given  of  him.  Difficulties,  lions,  or 
Vanity  Fair,  he  feared  not  at  all.  It  was  only  sin,  death, 
and  hell  that  was  to  him  a  terror,  because  he  had  some  doubts 
about  his  interest  in  that  celestial  country. 

GREAT-HEART.  You  say  right;  those  were  the  things  that 
were  his  troublers:  and  they,  as  you  have  well  observed, 

arose  from  the  weakness  of  his  mind  there- 
abouThim.  about,  not  from  weakness  of  spirit  as  to  the 

practical  part  of  a  pilgrim's  life.  I  dare  believe 
that,  as  the  proverb  is,  he  could  have  bit  a  firebrand,  had  it 
stood  in  his  way;  but  the  things  with  which  he  was  oppressed 
no  man  ever  yet  could  shake  off  with  ease. 

CHRIS.  Then  said  Christiana,  This  relation  of  Mr,  Fear- 
ing has  done  me  good.  I  thought  nobody  had  been  like  me, 

but  I  see  there  was  some  semblance  'twixt  this 
SnfeTic?.1"1  *  good  man  and  I;  only  we  differed  in  two  things : 

his  troubles  were  so  great,  they  brake  out;  but 
mine  I  kept  within.  His  also  lay  so  hard  upon  him,  they 
made  him  that  he  could  not  knock  at  the  houses  provided 
for  entertainment;  but  my  trouble  was  always  such  as  made 
me  knock  the  louder. 

MERCY.     If  I  might  also  speak   my  heart, 
'JJJSJ.J.  I  must  say  something  of  him  has  also  dwelt 

in  me.  For  I  have  ever  been  more  afraid  of 
the  lake,  and  the  loss  of  a  place  in  Paradise,  than  I  have 


266  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

been  of  the  loss  of  other  things.  Oh,  thought  I,  may  I 
have  the  happiness  to  have  a  habitation  there!  it  is  enough, 
though  I  part  with  all  the  world  to  win  it. 

MATT.     Then   said  Matthew,   Fear  was   one  thing   that 

made  me  think  that  I  was  far  from  having  that 

wntetcT*  within  me  that  accompanies  salvation;  but  if 

it  was  so  with  such  a  good  man  as  he,  why 

may  it  not  also  go  well  with  me? 

JAMES.     No    fears,    no    grace,    said    James. 
Sentence.  Though  there  is  not  always  grace  where  there 

is  the  fear  of  hell,  yet  to  be  sure  there  is  no 
grace  w7here  there  is  no  fear  of  God. 

GREAT-HEART.  Well  said,  James,  thou  hast  hit  the  mark, 
"for  the  fear  of  God  is  the  beginning  of  wisdom";  and,  to  be 
sure,  they  that  want  the  beginning  have  neither  middle  nor 
end.  But  we  will  here  conclude  our  discourse  of  Mr.  Fear- 
ing, after  we  have  sent  after  him  this  farewell  — 

Their  farewell         Well,  Master  Fearing,  thou  didst  fear 

about  him, 


Of  doing  anything,  while  here, 

That  would  have  thee  betray'd. 
And  didst  thou  fear  the  lake  and  pit? 

Would  others  did  so  too  ! 
For,  as  for  them  that  want  thy  wit, 

They  do  themselves  undo. 

Now  I  saw,  that  they  still  went  on  in  their  talk.     For  after 

Mr.  Great-heart  had  made  an  end  with  Mr.  Fearing,  Mr. 

Honest  began  to  tell  them  of  another,  but  his 

Of  Mr.  Self-will.  °  ' 

name  was  Mr.  Sell-  will.  He  pretended  nimsell 
to  be  a  pilgrim,  said  Mr.  Honest,  but  I  persuade  myself  he 
never  came  in  at  the  gate  that  stands  at  the  head  of  the 
way. 

GREAT-HEART.  Had  you  ever  any  talk  with  him  aboul 
it? 

HON.     Yes,  more  than  once  or  twice;  but  he  would  always 


THE   PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  267 

be  like  himself,  self-willed.     He  neither  cared  for  man,  nor* 
argument,    nor   yet   example:  what   his    mind 
M^°withhim.     prompted  him  to,  that  he  would  do,  and  noth- 
ing else  could  he  be  got  to. 

GREAT-HEART.  Pray  what  principles  did  he  hold  ?  for  I 
suppose  you  can  tell. 

HON.  He  held  that  a  man  might  follow  the 
vices  as  well  as  the  virtues  of  the  pilgrims;  and 
that  if  he  did  both,  he  should  be  certainly  saved. 

GREAT-HEART.  How !  If  he  had  said,  'tis  possible  for  the 
best  to  be  guilty  of  the  vices,  as  well  as  to  partake  of  the  vir- 
tues of  pilgrims,  he  could  not  much  have  been  blamed;  for 
indeed  we  are  exempted  from  no  vice  absolutely,  but  on  con- 
dition that  we  watch  and  strive.  But  this,  I  perceive,  is  not 
the  thing;  but  if  I  understand  you  right,  your  meaning  is, 
that  he  was  of  that  opinion,  that  it  was  allowable  so 
to  be? 

HON.     Ay,  ay,  so  I  mean ;  and  so  he  believed  and  practised. 

GREAT-HEART.     But  what  ground  had  he  for  his  so  saying  ? 

HON.     Why,  he  said  he  had  the  Scripture  for  his  warrant. 

GREAT-HEART.  Prithee,  Mr.  Honest,  present  us  with  a  few 
particulars. 

HON.  So  I  will.  He  said,  To  have  to  do  with  other  men's 
wives  had  been  practised  by  David,  God's  beloved;  and 
therefore  he  could  do  it.  He  said  to  have  more  women  than 
one,  was  a  thing  that  Solomon  practised;  and  therefore  he 
could  do  it.  He  said  that  Sarah  and  the  godly  midwives  of 
Egypt  lied,  and  so  did  saved  Rahab;  and  therefore  he  could 
do  it.  He  said  that  the  disciples  went  at  the  bidding  of  their 
Master,  and  took  away  the  owner's  ass;  and  therefore  he 
could  do  so  too.  He  said  that  Jacob  got  the  inheritance  of 
his  father  in  a  way  of  guile  and  dissimulation;  and  therefore 
he  could  do  so  too. 

GREAT-HEART.  High  base!  indeed;  and  you  are  sure  he 
was  of  this  opinion? 


268  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

HON.  I  have  heard  him  plead  for  it,  bring  Scripture  for  it, 
bring  argument  for  it,  etc. 

GREAT-HEART.  An  opinion  that  is  not  fit  to  be,  with  any 
allowance,  in  the  world. 

HON.  You  must  understand  me  rightly.  He  did  not  say 
that  any  man  might  do  this;  but,  that  those  that  had  the 
virtues  of  those  that  did  such  things  might  also  do  the 
same. 

GREAT-HEART.  But  what  more  false  than  such  a  con- 
clusion? For  this  is  as  much  as  to  say,  that  because  good 
men  heretofore  have  sinned  of  infirmity,  therefore  he  had 
allowance  to  do  it  of  a  presumptuous  mind.  Or  if  because  a 
child,  by  the  blast  of  the  wind,  or  for  that  it  stumbled  at  a 
stone,  fell  down  and  defiled  itself  in  mire,  therefore  he  might 
wilfully  lie  down  and  wallow  like  a  boar  therein.  Who  could 
have  thought  that  any  one  could  so  far  have  been  blinded  by 
the  power  of  lust  ?  But  what  is  written  must 
be  true,  "They  stumble  at  the  word,  being  dis- 
obedient; whereunto  also  they  were  appointed/' 

His  supposing  that  such  may  have  the  godly  man's  virtues, 

who  addict  themselves  to  their  vices,  is  also  a  delusion  as 

strong  as  the  other.     'Tis  just  as  if  the  dog  should  say,  I 

have,  or  may  have,  the  qualities  of  the  child,  because  I  lick 

up  its  stinking  excrements.     To  eat  up  the  sin 

Hos.  iv.  8.  . 

of  God  s  people  is  no  sign  01  one  that  is  pos- 
sessed with  their  virtues.  Nor  can  I  believe  that  one  that  is 
of  this  opinion  can  at  present  have  faith  or  love  in  him.  But 
I  know  you  have  made  strong  objections  against  him;  prithee 
what  can  he  say  for  himself  ? 

HON.  Why,  he  says,  to  do  this  by  way  of  opinion  seems 
abundance  more  honest,  than  to  do  it,  and  yet  hold  contrary 
to  it  in  opinion. 

GREAT-HEART.  A  very  wicked  answer;  for  though  to  let 
loose  the  bridle  to  lusts,  while  our  opinions  are  against  such 
things,  is  bad;  yet  to  sin,  and  plead  a  toleration  so  to  do,  is 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  269 

worse.  The  one  stumbles  beholders  accidentally,  the  other 
pleads  them  into  the  snare. 

HON.  There  are  many  of  this  man's  mind  that  have  not 
this  man's  mouth;  and  that  makes  going  on  pilgrimage  of  so 
little  esteem  as  it  is. 

GREAT-HEART.  You  have  said  the  truth,  and  it  is  to  be 
lamented.  But  he  that  feareth  the  King  of  Paradise  shall 
come  out  of  them  all. 

CHRIS.  There  are  strange  opinions  in  the  world;  I  know 
one  that  said,  'twas  time  enough  to  repent  when  they  came 
to  die. 

GREAT-HEART.  Such  are  not  overwise.  That  man  would 
have  been  loath,  might  he  have  had  a  week  to  run  twenty 
miles  in  for  his  life,  to  have  deferred  that  journey  to  the  last 
hour  of  that  week. 

HON.  You  say  right;  and  yet  the  generality  of  them  that 
count  themselves  pilgrims  do  indeed  do  thus.  I  am,  as  you 
see,  an  old  man,  and  have  been  a  traveller  in  this  road  many 
a  day;  and  I  have  taken  notice  of  many  things. 

I  have  seen  some  that  have  set  out  as  if  they  would  drive 
all  the  world  afore  them,  who  yet  have,  in  few  days,  died  as 
they  in  the  wilderness,  and  so  never  got  sight  of  the  promised 
land. 

I  have  seen  some  that  have  promised  nothing,  at  the  first 
setting  out  to  be  pilgrims,  and  that  one  would  have  thought 
could  not  have  lived  a  day,  that  have  yet  proved  very  good 
pilgrims. 

I  have  seen  some  that  have  run  hastily  forward,  that  again 
have,  after  a  little  time,  run  as  fast  just  back  again. 

I  have  seen  some  who  have  spoken  very  well  of  a  pilgrim's 
life  at  first,  that,  after  a  while,  have  spoken  as  much  against  it. 

I  have  heard  some,  when  they  first  set  out  for  Paradise, 
say  positively  there  is  such  a  place,  who,  when  they  have  been 
almost  there,  have  come  back  again  and  said  there  is  none. 

I  have  heard  some  vaunt  what  they  would  do  in  case  they 


270  THE   PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

should  be  opposed,  that  have  even  at  a  false  alarm  fled  faith, 
the  pilgrim's  way,  and  all. 

Now  as  they  were  thus  in  their  way,  there 
*  °^       came  one  running  to  meet  them,  and  said,  Gen- 
tlemen, and  you  of  the  weaker  sort,  if  you  love 
life,  shift  for  yourselves,  for  the  robbers  are  before  you. 

GREAT-HEART.     Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  They  be  the 

three  that  set  upon  Little-faith  heretofore.     Well,  said  he, 

we  are  ready  for  them.     So  they  went  on  their 

page  155.  way.     Now  they  looked  at  every  turning,  when 


they  should  have  met  with  the  villains;  but 
whether  they  heard  of  Mr.  Great-heart,  or 
whether  they  had  some  other  game,  they  came  not  up  to  the 
pilgrims. 

Christiana  then  wished  for  an  inn  for  herself  and  her  chil- 
dren, because  they  were  weary.  Then  said  Mr.  Honest, 
Christiana  There  is  one  a  little  before  us,  where  a  very 

vnshetkfor  honorable  disciple,  one  Gaius,  dwells.     So  they 

an  inn.  . 

all  concluded  to  turn  in  thither;  and  the  rather, 

Rom.  xm.  23. 

Gaius.  because  the  old  gentleman  gave  him  so  good  a 

They  enter  into      report.     So  when  they  came  to  the  door,  they 

went  in,  not  knocking,  for  folks  use  not  to  knock 
at  the  door  of  an  inn.  Then  they  called  for  the  master  of  the 
house,  and  he  came  to  them.  So  they  asked  if  they  might  lie 
there  that  night. 

GAIUS.  Yes,  gentlemen,  if  you  be  true  men,  for  my  house 
is  for  none  but  pilgrims.  Then  was  Christiana,  Mercy,  and 

the  boys  the  more  glad,  for  that  the  innkeeper 
fh^aZdtw.3  was  a  lover  of  Pilgrims.  So  they  called  for 

rooms,  and  he  showed  them  one  for  Christiana 
and  her  children  and  Mercy,  and  another  for  Mr.  Great-heart 
and  the  old  gentleman. 

GREAT-HEART.  Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  Good  Gaius, 
what  hast  thou  for  supper  ?  for  these  pilgrims  have  come  fa? 
to-day,  and  are  weary. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  271 

GAIUS.  It  is  late,  said  Gaius,  so  we  cannot  conveniently 
go  out  to  seek  food;  but  such  as  we  have  you  shall  be  wel- 
come to,  if  that  will  content. 

GREAT-HEART.  We  will  be  content  with  what  thou  hast 
in  the  house;  for  as  much  as  I  have  proved  thee,  thou  art 
never  destitute  of  that  which  is  convenient. 

Then  he  went  down  and  spake  to  the  cook,  whose  name 

was   Taste-that-which-is-good,   to   get   ready   supper  for  so 

many  pilgrims.     This  done,  he  comes  up  again, 

Gains  his  cook.  .  °  . 

saying,  Come,  my  good  mends,  you  are  wel- 
come to  me,  and  I  am  glad  that  I  have  an  house  to  entertain 
you;  and  while  supper  is  making  ready,  if  you  please,  let  us 
entertain  one  another  with  some  good  discourse.  So  they 
all  said,  Content. 

GAIUS.     Then  said  Gaius,  Whose  wife  is  this 

Talk  between 

Gaius  and  his       aged    matron  ?    and    whose    daughter    is    this 

guests.  ,  „ 

young  damsel  : 

GREAT-HEART.     The  woman  is  the  wife  of  one  Christian,  a 

pilgrim  of  former  times,  and  these  are  his  four  children.     The 

maid  is  one  of  her  acquaintance,  one  that  she 

Mark  this.  , 

hath  persuaded  to  come  with  her  on  pilgrimage. 
The  boys  take  all  after  their  father,  and  covet  to  tread  in 
his  steps;  yea,  if  they  do  but  see  any  place  where  the  old  pil- 
grim hath  lain,  or  any  print  of  his  foot,  it  ministereth  joy 
to  their  hearts,  and  they  covet  to  lie  or  tread  in  the  same. 

GAIUS.     Then  said  Gaius,   Is  this  Christian's  wife?  and 

are    these    Christian's    children?     I    knew    your   husband's 

father,    yea,   also   his    father's    father.     Many 

have  been  good  of  this  stock;  their  ancestors 


an  *  dwe]t  first  at  Antioch.  Christian's  progenitors 
(I  suppose  you  have  heard  your  husband  talk 
of  them)  were  very  worthy  men.  They  have,  above  any 
that  I  know,  showed  themselves  men  of  great  virtue  and 
courage  for  the  Lord  of  the  pilgrims,  his  ways,  and  them 
that  loved  him.  I  have  heard  of  many  of  your  husband's 


272  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

relations  that  have  stood  all  trials  for  the  sake  of  the  truth. 
Acts  vii  59  60  Stephen,  that  was  one  of  the  first  of  the  family 
from  whence  your  husband  sprang,  was 
knocked  on  the  head  with  stones.  James, 
another  of  this  generation,  was  slain  with  the  edge  of  the 
sword.  To  say  nothing  of  Paul  and  Peter,  men  anciently  of 
the  family  from  whence  your  husband  came,  there  was  Igna- 
tius, who  was  cast  to  the  lions;  Romanus,  whose  flesh  was 
cut  by  pieces  from  his  bones ;  and  Polycarp,  that  played  the 
man  in  the  fire.  There  was  he  that  was  hanged  up  in  a 
basket  in  the  sun  for  the  wasps  to  eat,  and  he  whom  they 
put  into  a  sack  and  cast  him  into  the  sea  to  be  drowned. 
'Twould  be  impossible  utterly  to  count  up  all  of  that  family 
that  have  suffered  injuries  and  death,  for  the  love  of  a  pil- 
grim's life.  Nor  can  I  but  be  glad  to  see  that  thy  husband 
has  left  behind  him  four  such  boys  as  these.  I  hope  they 
will  bear  up  their  father's  name,  and  tread  in  their  father's 
steps,  and  come  to  their  father's  end. 

GREAT-HEART.  Indeed,  Sir,  they  are  likely  lads;  they 
seem  to  choose  heartily  their  father's  ways. 

GAIUS.     That   is  it   that   I  said.     Wherefore   Christian's 

family  is  like  still  to  spread  abroad  upon  the  face  of  the 

ground,  and  yet  to  be  numerous  upon  the  face 

Advice  to  ^ 

Christiana  about    of  the  earth;  wherefore  let  Christiana  look  out 

some  damsels  for  her  sons,  to  whom  they  may 

be  betrothed,  etc.,  that  the  name  of  their  father  and  the 

house  of  his  progenitors  may  never  be  forgotten  in  the  world. 

HON.     'Tis  pity  this  family  should  fall,  and  be  extinct. 

GAIUS.     Fall  it  cannot,  but  be  diminished  it  may;  but  let 

Christiana  take  my  advice,  and  that's  the  way  to  uphold  it. 

And  Christiana,  said  the  innkeeper,  I  am  glad  to  see  thee 

and  thy  friend  Mercy  together  here,  a  lovely 

MattLwnmarry.     couple.     And  may  I  advise,  take  Mercy  into  a 

nearer  relation  to  thee.     If  she  will,  let  her  be 

given  to  Matthew,  thy  eldest  son;  'tis  the  way  to  preserve 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  273 

you  a  posterity  in  the  earth.  So  this  match  was  concluded, 
and  in  process  of  time  they  were  married.  But  more  of  that 
hereafter. 

Gaius  also  proceeded,  and  said,  I  will  now  speak  on  the 

behalf  of  women,  to  take  away  their  reproach.     For  as  death 

Gen  ~.  and  the  curse  came  into  the  world  by  a  woman, 

so  also  did  life  and  health:  "God  sent  forth  his 

Gal.  iv.  4. 

Son,  made  of  a  woman.'*  Yea,  to  show  how 
old  'so  much  much  those  that  came  after  did  abhor  the  act 

of  their  mother,  this  sex  in  the  Old  Testament 
coveted  children,  if  haply  this  or  that  woman  might  be  the 
mother  of  the  Saviour  of  the  world. 

I  will  say  again,  that  when  the  Saviour  was  come,  women 
rejoiced  in  him  before  either  man  or  angel.  I  read  not  that 

ever  any  man  did  give  unto  Christ  so  much  as 

one  groat;  but  the  women  followed  him,  and 

ministered  to  him  of  their  substance.  It  was  a 
woman  that  washed  his  feet  with  tears,  and  a  woman  that 
anointed  his  body  to  the  burial.  They  were  women  that 

wept  when  he  was  going  to  the  cross,  and 
37,56.  women  that  followed  him  from  the  cross,  and 

Chap^xii.s.  that  sat  by  his  sepulchre  when  he  was  buried. 
M^xxvii*7'  Tney  were  women  that  were  first  with  him  at 
55,  56,  61.  h^  resurrection  morn,  and  women  that  brought 

Luke  xxiv.  tidings  first  to  his  disciples  that  he  was  risen 

from  the  dead.  Women,  therefore,  are  highly 
favored,  and  show  by  these  things  that  they  are  sharers  with 
us  in  the  grace  of  life. 

Now  the  cook  sent  up  to  signify  that  supper 

Supper  ready.  i          fi. 

was  almost  ready,  and  sent  one  to  lay  the 
cloth,  the  trenchers,  and  to  set  the  salt  and  bread  in 
order. 

Then  said  Matthew,  The  sight  of  this  cloth  and  of  this 
forerunner  of  the  supper  begetteth  in  me  a  greater  appetite 
to  my  food  than  I  had  before. 


274  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

GAIUS.     So  let  all  ministering  doctrines  to  thee  in  this  life, 

beget  in  thee  a  greater  desire  to  sit  at  the  supper 
gathered  from  of  the  great  King  in  his  kingdom  ;  for  all  preach- 
lboard  wifalhe  mg»  books,  and  ordinances  here,  are  but  as  the 
Ct™nche?e.  laying  of  the  trenchers,  and  as  setting  of  salt 

upon  the  board,  when  compared  with  the  feast 
that  our  Lord  will  make  for  us  when  we  come  to  his 
house. 

So  supper  came  up,  and  first  a  heave-shoulder  and  a  wave- 
breast  was  set  on  the  table  before  them,  to  show  that  they 

must  begin  their  meal  with  prayer  and  praise 
Cka,™x.  14"  is.  to  God.  The  heave-shoulder  David  lifted  his 
HSebXXxiiil\5.  heart  up  to  God  with,  and  with  the  wave-breast, 

where  his  heart  lay,  with  that  he  used  to  lean 
upon  his  harp  when  he  played.     These  two  dishes  were  very 
fresh  and  good,  and  they  all  ate  heartily  well  thereof. 
Deuf  xxxii  14          ^e  nex^  they  brought  up  was  a  bottle  of 

wine,  red  as  blood.     So  Gaius   said  to  them, 

Judges  ix.  13. 

Drink  freely;  this  is  the  juice  of  the  true  vine, 
that  makes  glad  the  heart  of  God  and  man. 
So  they  drank  and  were  merry. 

next  was  a  ^h  °^  m^»  we^  crumbed. 


i  Pet  ii  i  2 

But  Gaius  said,  Let  the  boys  have  that,  that 

A  dish  of  milk.          ,  ,          . 

they  may  grow  thereby. 
Then  they  brought  up  in  course  a  dish  of  butter  and  honey. 

Then  said  Gaius,  Eat  freely  of  this;  for  this  is 
butted  good  to  cheer  up  and  strengthen  your  judg- 

isa.  vii.  is.          ments    and    understandings.     This    was    our 

Lord's  dish  when  he  was  a  child:  "Butter  and 
honey  shall  he  eat,  that  he  may  know  to  refuse  the  evil  and 
choose  the  good." 

Then  they  brought  them  up  a  dish  of  apples,  and  they 

were  very  good-tasted  fruit.     Then  said  Mat- 

A  dish  of  apples.  * 

thew,  May  we  eat  apples,  since  they  were  such 
by  and  with  which  the  serpent  beguiled  our  first  mother  ? 


THE   PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  275 

said  Gaius — 

Apples  were  they  with  which  we  were  beguiled, 
Yet  sin,  not  apples,  hath  our  souls  defiled. 
Apples  forbid,  if  eat,  corrupt  the  blood; 
To  eat  such,  when  commanded,  does  us  good. 
Drink  of  his  flagons,  then,  thou  church,  his  dove, 
And  eat  his  apples,  who  are  sick  of  love. 

Then  said  Matthew,  I  made  the  scruple  because  I,  a  while 
since,  was  sick  with  eating  of  fruit. 

GAIUS.  Forbidden  fruit  will  make  you  sick,  but  not  what 
our  Lord  has  tolerated. 

While  they  were  thus  talking,  they  were  pre- 
'.  sen  ted  with  another  dish,  and  it  was  a  dish  of 
nuts.  Then  said  some  at  the  table,  Nuts  spoil 
tender  teeth,  specially  the  teeth  of  children;  which  when 
Gaius  heard,  he  said — 

Hard  texts  are  nuts  (I  will  not  call  them  cheaters), 
Whose  shells  do  keep  their  kernels  from  the  eaters. 
Ope  then  the  shells,  and  you  shall  have  the  meat; 
They  here  brought  are  for  you  to  crack  and  eat. 

Then  were  they  very  merry,  and  sat  at  the  table  a  long 
time,  talking  of  many  things.  Then  said  the  old  gentleman, 
My  good  landlord,  while  we  are  cracking  your  nuts,  if  you 
please,  do  you  open  this  riddle — 

Mkf6  dd  ^  man  ^ere  was'  tnough  some  did  count  him  mad, 

Honest.  The  more  he  cast  away,  the  more  he  had. 

Then  they  all  gave  good  heed,  wondering  what  good  Gaius 
would  say ;  so  he  sat  still  a  while,  and  then  thus  replied — 

He  that  bestows  his  goods  upon  the  poor, 
Qaiut  opens  it.  '  5 

shall  nave  as  much  again,  and  ten  times  more. 

Then  said  Joseph,  I  dare  say,  Sir,  I  did  not 

Joseph  wonders. 

think  you  could  nave  found  it  out. 
Oh,  said  Gaius,  I  have  been  trained  up  in  this  way  a  great 


276  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

while;  nothing  teaches  like  experience.     I  have  learned  of 

my  Lord  to  be  kind,  and  have  found  by  experience  that  I 

have  gained  thereby.     "There  is  that  scatter- 

Prov.  art.  24.  .  •  i 

eth,   yet  mcreaseth;    and   there   is   that  with- 

holdeth  more  than  is  meet,  but  it  tendeth  to 

poverty."     "There  is   that  maketh  himself  rich,  yet   hath 

nothing;   there  is  that  maketh  himself  poor,  yet  hath  great 

riches." 

Then  Samuel  whispered  to  Christiana  his  mother,  and 
said,  Mother,  this  is  a  very  good  man's  house;  let  us  stay 
here  a  good  while,  and  let  my  brother  Matthew  be  married 
here  to  Mercy  before  we  go  any  farther. 

The  which  Gaius  the  host  overhearing,  said,  With  a  very 
good  will,  my  child. 

So  thev  staved  there  more  than  a  month,  and 

Matthew  and 

Mercy  are  Mercy  was  given  to  Matthew  to  wife. 

While  they  stayed  here,  Mercy,  as  her  cus- 
tom was,  would  be  making  coats  and  garments  to  give  to  the 
poor,  by  which  she  brought  up  a  very  good  report  upon  the 
pilgrims. 

But  to  return  again  to  our  story.     After  supper  the  lads 

desired  a   bed,   for   that  they  were  weary  with  travelling. 

Then  Gaius  called  to  show  them  their  chamber; 

1  he  boys  go  to 

bed.  the  rest  but  said  Mercy,  I  will  have  them  to  bed.     So 

she  had  them  to  bed,  and  they  slept  well:  but 

the  rest  sat  up  all  night,  for  Gaius  and  they  were  such  suitable 

company  that  they  could  not  tell  how  to  part.     Then  after 

much  talk  of  their  Lord,  themselves,  and  their  journey,  old 

Mr.  Honest,  he  that  put  forth  the  riddle  to 

Old  Honest  nods.  .  r 

Gaius,  began  to  nod.     Then  said  Great-heart, 
What,  Sir,  you  begin  to  be  drowsy;  come,  rub  up,  now  here's 
a  riddle  for  you.     Then  said  Mr.  Honest,  Let's  hear  it. 
Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart  — 


A   iddle  ^  ^^'  must  first  be  overcome: 

Who  live  abroad  would,  first  must  die  at  home. 


THE   PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  277 

Ha!  said  Mr.  Honest,  it  is  a  hard  one;  hard  to  expound, 
and  harder  to  practise.  But  come,  landlord,  said  he,  I  will, 
if  you  please,  leave  my  part  to  you;  do  you  expound  it,  and  I 
will  hear  what  you  say. 

No,  said  Gaius,  'twas  put  to  you,  and  'tis  expected  that 
you  should  answer  it. 

Then  said  the  old  gentleman — 

The  riddle  ^e  ^rst  ^v  grace  must  conquer'd  be, 

opened.  That  sin  would  mortify: 

And  who,  that  lives,  would  convince  me, 
Unto  himself  must  die. 

It  is  right,  said  Gaius;  good  doctrine  and  experience  teaches 
this.  For  first,  until  grace  displays  itself,  and  overcomes  the 
soul  with  its  glory,  it  is  altogether  without  heart  to  oppose 
sin.  Besides,  if  sin  is  Satan's  cords,  by  which  the  soul  lies 
bound,  how  should  it  make  resistance,  before  it  is  loosed  from 
that  infirmity  ? 

Secondly,  nor  will  any,  that  knows  either  reason  or  grace, 
believe  that  such  a  man  can  be  a  living  monument  of  grace, 
that  is  a  slave  to  his  own  corruptions. 

And  now  it  comes  in  my  mind,  I  will  tell  you  a  story  worth 
the  hearing.  There  were  two  men  that  went  on  pilgrimage, 
the  one  began  when  he  was  young,  the  other 

wllen  he  Was  °ld'      Tne  y°ung  man  had  strong 

corruptions  to  grapple  with,  the  old  man's  were 
decayed  with  the  decays  of  nature.  The  young  man  trod 
his  steps  as  even  as  did  the  old  one,  and  was  every  way  as 
light  as  he.  Who  now,  or  which  of  them,  had  their  graces 
shining  clearest,  since  both  seemed  to  be  alike? 

HON.  The  young  man's,  doubtless.  For  that  which  heads 
it  against  the  greatest  opposition,  gives  best  demonstration 

that  it   is   strongest.     Specially   when   it  also 

A  comparison.         ,111  -11 

holdeth  pace  with  that  that  meets  not  with 
half  so  much,  as  to  be  sure  old  age  does  not. 

Besides,  I  have  observed  that  old  men  have  blessed  them- 


278  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

selves  with  this  mistake,  namely,  taking  the  decays  of  nature 
for  a  gracious  conquest  over  corruptions,  and 

A  mistake.  1-11 

so  have  been  apt  to  beguile  themselves.  In- 
deed, old  men  that  are  gracious  are  best  able  to  give  advice 
to  them  that  are  young,  because  they  have  seen  most  of  the 
emptiness  of  things.  But  yet,  for  an  old  and  a  young  to  set 
out  both  together,  the  young  one  has  the  advantage  of  the 
fairest  discovery  of  a  work  of  grace  within  him,  though  the 
old  man's  corruptions  are  naturally  the  weakest. 

Thus  they  sat  talking  till  break  of  day.     Now  when  the 

family  was  up,  Christiana  bid  her  son  James  that  he  should 

.       read  a  chapter;  so  he  read  the  fifty-third  of 

Isaiah.     When  he  had  done,  Mr.  Honest  asked 

why  it  was  said  that  the  Saviour  is  said  to  come  "out  of  a 

dry  ground,"  and  also  that  "he  had  no  form  nor  comeliness 

in  him." 

GREAT-HEART.  Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  To  the  first 
I  answer,  Because  the  church  of  the  Jews,  of  which  Christ 
came,  had  then  lost  almost  all  the  sap  and  spirit  of  religion. 
To  the  second  I  say,  The  words  are  spoken  in  the  person  of 
the  unbelievers,  who,  because  they  want  that  eye  that  can  see 
into  our  Prince's  heart,  therefore  they  judge  of  him  by  the 
meanness  of  his  outside:  just  like  those  that  know  not  that 
precious  stones  are  covered  over  with  a  homely  crust;  who, 
when  they  have  found  one,  because  they  know  not  what  they 
have  found,  cast  it  again  away,  as  men  do  a  common  stone. 

Well,  said  Gaius,  now  you  are  here,  and  since,  as  I  know, 

Mr.  Great-heart  is  good  at  his  weapons,  if  you  please,  after 

we  have  refreshed  ourselves,  we  will  walk  into 

Giant  Slay-good 

assaulted  and  the  fields,  to  see  it  we  can  do  any  good.  About 
a  mile  from  hence  there  is  one  Slay-good,  a  giant 
that  doth  much  annoy  the  King's  highway  in  these  parts; 
and  I  know  whereabout  his  haunt  is.  He  is  master  of  a 
number  of  thieves.  'Twould  be  well  if  we  could  clear  these 
parts  of  him. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  279 

So  they  consented  and  went;  Mr.  Great-heart  with  his 
sword,  helmet,  and  shield,  and  the  rest  with  spears  and 
staves. 

When  they  came  to  the  place  where  he  was,  they  found 

him  with  one  Feeble-mind  in  his  hands,  whom  his  servants 

had  brought  unto  him,  having  taken  him  in  the 

He  is  found  with  °  .  . 

one  Feeble-mind  way.  Now  the  giant  was  nning  ot  him,  with  a 
purpose  after  that  to  pick  his  bones;  for  he  was 
of  the  nature  of  flesh-eaters. 

Well,  so  soon  as  he  saw  Mr.  Great-heart  and  his  friends 
at  the  mouth  of  his  cave,  with  their  weapons,  he  demanded 
what  they  wanted. 

GREAT-HEART.  We  want  thee;  for  we  are  come  to  revenge 
the  quarrel  of  the  many  that  thou  hast  slain  of  the  pilgrims, 
when  thou  hast  dragged  them  out  of  the  King's  highway, 
wherefore  come  out  of  thy  cave.  So  he  armed  himself  and 
came  out;  and  to  a  battle  they  went,  and  fought  for  above 
an  hour,  and  then  stood  still  to  take  wind. 

SLAY-GOOD.  Then  said  the  Giant,  Why  are  you  here  on 
my  ground  ? 

GREAT- HEART.  To  revenge  the  blood  of  pilgrims  as  I  also 
told  thee  before.  So  they  went  to  it  again,  and  the  Giant 
made  Mr.  Great-heart  give  back;  but  he  came  up  again,  and 
in  the  greatness  of  his  mind  he  let  fly  with  such  stoutness  at 
the  Giant's  head  and  sides,  that  he  made  him  let  his  weapon 
fall  out  of  his  hand.  So  he  smote  him  and  slew  him,  and 
cut  off  his  head,  and  brought  it  away  to  the  inn.  He  also 
took  Feeble-mind  the  pilgrim,  and  brought  him 

One  Feeble-mind         .  i  •      i     «   . 

rescued  from  the  with  him  to  his  lodgings.  When  they  were 
come  home,  they  showed  his  head  to  the  family, 
and  then  set  it  up,  as  they  had  done  others  before,  for  a 
terror  to  those  that  should  attempt  to  do  as  he,  hereafter. 

Then  they  asked  Mr.  Feeble-mind  how  he  fell  into  his 
hands. 

FEEBLE.     Then  said  the  poor  man,  I  am  a  sickly  man,  as 


280  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

you  see;  and,  because  death  did  usually  once  a  day  knock 
.   at  my  door,  I  thought  I  should  never  be  well 

How  Feeble-mind 

came  to  be  a  at  home;  so  I  betook  myself  to  a  pilgrim  s  life, 
and  have  travelled  hither  from  the  town  of  Un- 
certain, where  I  and  my  father  were  born.  I  am  a  man  of  no 
strength  at  all,  of  body,  nor  yet  of  mind,  but  would,  if  I 
could,  though  I  can  but  crawl,  spend  my  life  in  the  pilgrim's 
way.  When  I  came  at  the  gate  that  is  at  the  head  of  the 
way,  the  Lord  of  that  place  did  entertain  me  freely,  neither 
objected  he  against  my  weakly  looks,  nor  against  my  feeble 
mind,  but  gave  me  such  things  that  were  necessary,  for  my 
journey,  and  bid  me  hope  to  the  end.  When  I  came  to  the 
house  of  the  Interpreter,  I  received  much  kindness  there, 
and,  because  the  Hill  Difficulty  was  judged  too  hard  for  me, 
I  was  carried  up  that  by  one  of  his  servants.  Indeed,  I  have 
found  much  relief  from  pilgrims,  though  none  was  willing  to 
go  so  softly  as  I  am  forced  to  do;  yet  still,  as  they  came  on, 
they  bid  me  be  of  good  cheer,  and  said  that  it  was  the  will 
i  Tkess  v  14  °^  ^elr  Lord  that  comfort  should  be  given  to 
the  feeble-minded,  and  so  went  on  their  own 
pace.  When  I  was  come  up  to  Assault  Lane,  then  this  Giant 
met  with  me,  and  bid  me  prepare  for  an  encounter;  but,  alas! 
feeble  one  that  I  was,  I  had  more  need  of  a  cordial.  So  he 
came  up  and  took  me.  I  conceited  he  should 
not  kill  me.  Also,  when  he  had  got  me  into 
his  den,  since  I  went  not  with  him  willingly,  I  believed  I 
should  come  out  alive  again;  for  I  have  heard,  that  not  any 
pilgrim  that  is  taken  captive  by  violent  hands,  if  he  keep 
heart-whole  towards  his  Master,  is,  by  the  laws  of  Providence, 
to  die  by  the  hand  of  the  enemy.  Robbed,  I  looked  to  be, 
and  robbed  to  be  sure  I  am;  but  I  am,  as  you  see,  escaped 
with  life,  for  the  which  I  thank  my  King  as  author,  and  you 
as  the  means.  Other  brunts  I  also  look  for, 

Mark  this. 

but  this  I  have  resolved  on,  to  wit,  to  run  when 
I  can,  to  go  when  I  cannot  run,  and  to  creep  when  I  cannot  go. 
As  to  the  main,  I  thank  Him  that  loves  me,  I  am  fixed.  My 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  281 

way  is  before  me,  my  mind  is  beyond  the  river  that  has  no 
bridge,  though  I  am,  as  you  see,  but  of  a  feeble  mind. 

HON.  Then  said  old  Mr.  Honest,  Have  not  you,  sometime 
ago,  been  acquainted  with  one  Mr.  Fearing,  a  pilgrim  ? 

FEEBLE.     Acquainted  with  him!     Yes;  he  came  from  the 

town  of  Stupidity,  which  lieth  four  degrees  to  the  northward 

of  the  City  of  Destruction,  and  as  many  off  of 

Mr.  Fearing,  J 

Mr.  Feeble-          where  I  was  born;  yet  we  were  well  acquainted, 

mind's  uncle.  f         .      ,       ,     ,  .  f     .       , 

for   indeed   he   was   mine   uncle,    my   fathers 

brother.     He  and  I  have  been  much  of  a  temper.     He  was  a 

little  shorter  than  I,  but  yet  we  were  much  of  a  complexion. 

HON.     I  perceive  you  know  him,  and  I  am 

Feeble-mind  has  i     i*  i         .1      ,  i    ,      i 

tome  of  Mr.  apt  to  believe  also  that  you  were  related  one 
features*  *°  another;  for  you  have  his  whitely  look,  a 

cast  like  his  with  your  eye,  and  your  speech 
is  much  alike. 

FEEBLE.  Most  have  said  so  that  have  known  us  both: 
and  besides,  what  I  have  read  in  him,  I  have  for  the  most 
part  found  in  myself. 

GAIUS.     Come,  Sir,  said  good  Gaius,  be  of  good  cheer,  you 

are  welcome  to  me,  and  to  my  house,  and  what 
Comforts  him.        tnou  nas  a  mind  to,  call  for  freely;  and  what 

thou  wouldest  have  my  servants  do  for  thee, 
they  will  do  it  with  a  ready  mind. 

FEEBLE.  Then  said  Mr.  Feeble-mind,  This  is  unexpected 
favor,  and  as  the  sun  shining  out  of  a  very  dark  cloud.  Did 

Giant  Slay-good  intend  me  this  favor  when  he 

Notice  to  be 

taken  of  stopped  me,  and  resolved  to  let  me  go  no  far- 

ther?    Did  he  intend  that  after  he  had  rifled 
my  pockets  I  should  go  to  Gaius  mine  host  ?     Yet  so  it  is. 
Tidin  s  how  one        Now  just  as  Mr.  Feeble-mind  and  Gaius  were 
Not-right  was        thus  in   talk,  there   comes   one   running,  and 

slain  with  a 

thunderbolt,  and     called  at  the  door,  and  told,  that  about  a  mile 
mind's  comment     and  a  half  off  there  was  one  Mr.  Not-right,  a 
pilgrim,  struck  dead  upon  the  place  where  he 
was,  with  a  thunderbolt. 


282  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

FEEBLE.  Alas !  said  Mr.  Feeble-mind,  is  he  slain  ?  He 
overtook  me  some  days  before  I  came  so  far  as  hither,  and 
would  be  my  company  keeper.  He  also  was  with  me  when 
Slay-good,  the  giant,  took  me;  but  he  was  nimble  of  his 
heels,  and  escaped.  But  it  seems  he  escaped  to  die,  and  I 
was  took  to  live. 

What,  one  would  think,  doth  seek  to  slay  outright, 

Ofttimes  delivers  from  the  saddest  plight. 

That  very  providence,  whose  face  is  death, 

Doth  ofttimes  to  the  lowly  life  bequeath. 

I  taken  was,  he  did  escape  and  flee, 

Hands  cross'd  gives  death  to  him,  and  life  to  me. 

Now  about  this  time,  Matthew  and  Mercy  were  married: 
also  Gaius  gave  his  daughter  Phebe  to  James,  Matthew's 
brother,  to  wife;  after  which  time  they  yet  stayed  above  ten 
days  at  Gaius's  house,  spending  their  time,  and  the  seasons, 
like  as  pilgrims  used  to  do. 

When  they  were  to  depart,  Gaius  made  them  a  feast,  and 

they  did  eat  and  drink,  and  were  merry.     Now  the  hour  was 

come  that  they  must  be  gone;   wherefore  Mr.  Great-heart 

called  for  a  reckoning.     But  Gaius  told  him  that 

The  pilgrims  .  . 

pare  to  go         at  his  house  it  was  not  the  custom  for  pilgrims  to 


pay  for  their  entertainment.     He  boarded  them 
flW  fhefgrlli      by  tne  year»  but  looked  for  his  pay  from  the 
r  "*       good  Samaritan,  who  had  promised  him  at  his 
return,  whatsoever  charge  he  was  at  with  them, 
faithfully  to  repay  him.     Then  said  Mr.  Great-heart  to  him — 
GREAT-HEART.     "Beloved,  thou  dost  faithfully  whatsoever 
thou  dost,  to  the  brethren  and  to  strangers, 

3  John  v.  6.  . 

which  have  borne  witness  of  thy  charity  before 

the  church;    whom   if    thou    (yet)    bring  forward   on   their 

journey  after  a  godly  sort,  thou  shalt  do  well." 

Gains  s  last  rr,  r*  11-1 

kindness  to  Then  Gaius  took  his  leave  of  them  all,  and 

of  his  children,  and  particularly  of  Mr.  Feeble- 
mind.     He  also  gave  him  something  to  drink  by  the  way. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  283 

Now  Mr.  Feeble-mind,  when  they  were  going  out  of  the 
door,  made  as  if  he  intended  to  linger.  The  which,  when 
Mr.  Great-heart  espied,  he  said,  Come,  Mr.  Feeble-mind, 
pray  do  you  go  along  with  us,  I  will  be  your  conductor,  and 
you  shall  fare  as  the  rest. 

FEEBLE.     Alas!  I  want  a  suitable  companion;  you  are  all 
lusty  and  strong,  but  I,  as  you  see,  am  weak.     I  choose  there- 
fore rather  to  come  behind,  lest  by  reason  of 
my  many  infirmities  I  should  be  both  a  burden 
to  myself  and  to  you.     I  am,  as  I  said,  a  man 
of  a  weak  and  feeble  mind,  and  shall  be  offended  and  made 
weak  at  that  which  others  can  bear.     I  shall  like  no  laughing, 
I  shall  like  no  gay  attire,  I  shall  like  no  unprofitable  questions. 
Nay,  I  am  so  weak  a  man  as  to  be  offended  with  that  which 
others  have  a  liberty  to  do.     I  do  not  yet  know 

His  excuse  for  it.  ... 

all  the  truth;  I  am  a  very  ignorant  Christian 
man;  sometimes,  if  I  hear  some  rejoice  in  the  Lord,  it  troubles 
me  because  I  cannot  do  so  too.  It  is  with  me  as  it  is  with  a 
weak  man  among  the  strong,  or  as  with  a  sick  man  among 
.  .  ..  the  healthy,  or  as  a  lamp  despised  ("He  that  is 

ready  to  slip  with  his  feet,  is  as  a  lamp  despised 
in  the  thought  of  him  that  is  at  ease");  so  that  I  know  not 
what  to  do. 

GREAT-HEART.     But,    brother,   said    Mr.   Great-heart,    I 

have  it  in  commission,  to  comfort  the  feeble- 

minded,  and  to  support  the  weak.     You  must 


.  v.  14.       needs  go  along  with  us;  we  will  wait  for  you, 

Ram  xiv  we  w^  *en(*  you  our  ^P*  we  w^  deny  our- 

selves of  some  things,  both  opinionative  and 

1  Cor.  nn. 

practical,  for  your  sake;  we  will  not  enter  into 

spirit.  doubtful  disputations  before  you,  will  be  made 

all  things  to  you  rather  than  you  shall  be  left 

Pa.  xxxviii.  17.        Kphinrl 

Promises.  Denmci. 

Now  all  this  while  they  were  at  Gaius's  door; 
and,  behold,  as  they  were  thus  in  the  heat  of  their  dis- 


284  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

course,   Mr.   Ready-to-halt   came   by,  with  his   crutches  in 
his  hand;  and  he  also  was  going  on  pilgrimage. 

FEEBLE.     Then  said  Mr.  Feeble-mind  to  him, 
glad  To™see  Man,  how  earnest  thou  hither?     I  was  but  just 


now  complaining  that  I  had  not  a  suitable  com- 
panion,  but  thou   art  according  to   my  wish. 
Welcome,  welcome,  good  Mr.  Ready-to-halt,  I  hope  thee  and 
I  may  be  some  help. 

READY.  I  shall  be  glad  of  thy  company,  said  the  other; 
and,  good  Mr.  Feeble-mind,  rather  than  we  will  part,  since 
we  are  thus  happily  met,  I  will  lend  thee  one  of  my  crutches. 

FEEBLE.  Nay,  said  he,  though  I  thank  thee  for  thy  good 
will,  I  am  not  inclined  to  halt  before  I  am  lame.  Howbeit, 
I  think,  when  occasion  is,  it  may  help  me  against  a  dog. 

READY.  If  either  myself  or  my  crutches  can  do  thee  a 
pleasure,  we  are  both  at  thy  command,  good  Mr.  Feeble- 
mind. 

Thus  therefore  they  went  on;  Mr.  Great-heart  and  Mr. 
Honest  went  before,  Christiana  and  her  children  went  next, 
and  Mr.  Feeble-  mind,  and  Mr.  Ready-to-halt  came  behind 
with  his  crutches.  Then  said  Mr.  Honest  — 

HON.     Pray,  sir,  now  we  are  upon  the  road, 

New  talk. 

tell  us  some  profitable  things  of  some  that  have 
gone  on  pilgrimage  before  us. 

GREAT-HEART.  With  a  good  will.  I  suppose  you  have 
heard  how  Christian  of  old  did  meet  with  Apollyon  in  the 

Valley  of  Humiliation,  and  also  what  hard 
pa^168-?4,  76.  WOI"k  ne  had  to  go  through  the  Valley  of  the 

Shadow  of  Death.  Also  I  think  you  cannot  but 
have  heard  how  Faithful  was  put  to  it  with  Madam  Wanton, 
with  Adam  the  first,  with  one  Discontent,  and  Shame;  four 
as  deceitful  villains  as  a  man  can  meet  with  upon  the  road. 

HON.  Yes,  I  have  heard  of  all  this  ;  but  indeed,  good  Faith- 
ful was  hardest  put  to  it  with  Shame:  he  was  an  unwearied 
one. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  285 

GREAT-HEART.  Ay;  for  as  the  pilgrim  well  said,  he  of  all 
men  had  the  wrong  name. 

HON.     But  pray,  Sir,  where  was  it  that  Chris- 
pa^e  Ik  tian  and  ^ithful  met  Talkative  ?     That  same 

was  also  a  notable  one. 

GREAT-HEART.  He  was  a  confident  fool;  yet  many  follow 
his  ways. 

HON.     He  had  like  to  have  beguiled  Faithful. 
GREAT-HEART.     Ay,   but  Christian  put  him  into  a  way 
quickly  to  find  him  out.     Thus  they  went  on 
page  106  ^11  they  came  at  a  place  where  Evangelist  met 

with  Christian  and  Faithful,  and  prophesied  to 
them  of  what  should  befall  them  at  Vanity  Fair. 

GREAT-HEART.  Then  said  their  guide,  Hereabouts  did 
Christian  and  Faithful  meet  with  Evangelist,  who  prophesied 
to  them  of  what  troubles  they  should  meet  with  at  Vanity 
Fair. 

HON.  Say  you  so  ?  I  dare  say  it  was  a  hard  chapter  that 
then  he  did  read  unto  them. 

GREAT-HEART.     'Twas  so ;  but  he  gave  them  encouragement 

withal.     But  what  do  we  talk  of  them  ?     They 

page  Vis.  were  a  couple  of  Hon-Hke  men,  they  had  set 

their   faces    like   flint.     Don't   you    remember 

how    undaunted    they    were    when    they    stood    before    the 

judge? 

HON.     Well,  Faithful  bravely  suffered ! 
GREAT-HEART.     So  he  did,  and  as  brave  things  came  on't; 
for  Hopeful  and  some  others,  as  the  story  relates  it,  were  con- 
verted by  his  death. 

HON.     Well,  but  pray  go  on;  for  you  are  well  acquainted 

with  things. 

pope  122  GREAT-HEART.     Above  all  that  Christian  met 

with  after  he  had  passed  through  Vanity  Fair, 
one  By-ends  was  the  arch  one. 
HON.     By-ends!  what  was  he? 


286  THE   PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

GREAT-HEART.  A  very  arch  fellow,  a  downright  hypocrite. 
One  that  would  be  religious  which  way  ever  the  world  went; 
but  so  cunning,  that  he  would  be  sure  neither  to  lose  nor 
suffer  for  it.  He  had  his  mode  of  religion  for  every  fresh  occa- 
sion, and  his  wife  was  as  good  at  it  as  he.  He  would  turn  and 
change  from  opinion  to  opinion,  yea,  and  plead  for  so  doing 
too.  But  so  far  as  I  could  learn,  he  came  to  an  ill  end  with 
his  by-ends;  nor  did  I  ever  hear  that  any  of  his  children  were 
ever  of  any  esteem  with  any  that  truly  feared  God. 

Now  by  this  time  they  were  come  within  sight  of  the  town 

of  Vanity,  where  Vanity  Fair  is  kept.     So  when  they  saw 

They  are  come       that  they  were  so  near  the  town,  they  consulted 

fianity^*1'  °*       witn  one  anotner  how  they  should  pass  through 

the  town,  and  some  said  one  thing,  and  some 

They  enter  into 

one  Mr.  another.  At  last  Mr.  Great-heart  said,  I  have, 

lodge.  as  you  may.  understand,  often  been  a  conductor 

of  pilgrims  through  this  town;  now  I  am  ac- 
quainted with  one  Mr.  Mnason,  a  Cyprusian  by  nation,  an 
old  disciple,  at  whose  house  we  may  lodge.  If  you  think  good, 
said  he,  we  will  turn  in  there? 

Content,  said  old  Honest;  Content,  said  Christiana;  Con- 
tent, said  Mr.  Feeble-mind:  and  so  they  said  all.  Now  you 
must  think  it  was  eventide  by  that  they  got  to  the  outside 
of  the  town,  but  Mr.  Great-heart  knew  the  way  to  the  old 
man's  house.  So  thither  they  came;  and  he  called  at  the 
door,  and  the  old  man  within  knew  his  tongue  so  soon  as 
ever  he  heard  it;  so  he  opened,  and  they  all  came  in.  Then 
said  Mnason  their  host,  How  far  have  ye  come  to-day  ?  So 
they  said,  From  the  house  of  Gaius  our  friend.  I  promise 
you,  said  he,  you  have  gone  a  good  stitch,  you  may  well  be 
a- weary;  sit  down.  So  they  sat  down. 

GREAT-HEART.     Then  said  their  guide,  Come, 

wnat  cheer,  sirs  ?     I  dare  say  you  are  welcome 

to  my  friend. 
MNASON.     T  also,  said  Mr.  Mnason,  do  bid  you  welcome; 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  287 

and  whatever  you  want,  do  but  say,  and  we  will  do  what  we 
can  to  get  it  for  you. 

HON.  Our  great  want,  a  while  since,  was  harbor,  and  good 
company,  and  now  I  hope  we  have  both. 

MNASON.  For  harbor,  you  see  what  it  is;  but  for  good 
company,  that  will  appear  in  the  trial. 

GREAT-HEART.  Well,  said  Mr.  Great-heart,  will  you  have 
the  pilgrims  up  into  their  lodging  ? 

MNASON.  I  will,  said  Mr.  Mnason.  So  he  had  them  to 
their  respective  places,  and  also  showed  them  a  very  fair 
dining-room,  where  they  might  be  and  sup  together,  until 
time  was  come  to  go  to  rest. 

Now  when  they  were  set  in  their  places,  and  were  a  little 
cheery  after  their  journey,  Mr.  Honest  asked  his  landlord  if 
there  were  any  store  of  good  people  in  the  town  ? 

MNASON.  We  have  a  few;  for  indeed  they  are  but  a  few, 
when  compared  with  them  on  the  other  side. 

HON.     But  how  shall  we  do  to  see  some  of 
the       them  ?     For  the  sight  of  good  men  to  them  that 
wn  are  g°mS  on  pilgrimage,  is  like  to  the  appearing 

of  the  moon  and  the  stars  to  them  that  are  sail- 
ing upon  the  seas. 

MNASON.  Then  Mr.  Mnason  stamped  with  his  foot,  and 
his  daughter  Grace  came  up.  So  he  said  unto  her,  Grace,  go 

you  tell  my  friends,  Mr.  Contrite,  Mr.  Holy- 
Some  sent  for.  ^ 

man,  Mr.  Love-saint,  Mr.  Dare-not-he,  and  Mr. 

Penitent,  that  I  have  a  friend  or  two  at  my  house,  that  have 
a  mind  this  evening  to  see  them. 

So  Grace  went  to  call  them,  and  they  came;  and  after  salu- 
tation made,  they  sat  down  together  at  the  table. 

Then  said  Mr.  Mnason,  their  landlord,  My  neighbors,  I 
have,  as  you  see,  a  company  of  strangers  come  to  my  house: 
they  are  pilgrims;  they  come  from  afar,  and  are  going  to 
Mount  Zion.  But  who,  quoth  he,  do  you  think  this  is? 
pointing  with  his  finger  to  Christiana.  It  is  Christiana,  the 


288  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

wife  of  Christian,  that  famous  pilgrim,  who  with  Faithful  his 
brother  were  so  shamefully  handled  in  our  town.  At  that 
they  stood  amazed,  saying,  We  little  thought  to  see  Christi- 
ana, when  Grace  came  to  call  us;  wherefore  this  is  a  very 
comfortable  surprise.  Then  they  asked  her  of  her  welfare, 
and  if  these  young  men  were  her  husband's  sons.  And  when 
she  had  them  told  they  were,  they  said,  The  King  whom  you 
love  and  serve  make  you  as  your  father,  and  bring  you  where 
he  is  in  peace. 

HON.  Then  Mr.  Honest  (when  they  were  all 
betwixt  Mr.  sat  down)  asked  Mr.  Contrite  and  the  rest  in 

Contrite™  what  posture  their  town  was  at  present. 

CONTRITE,  You  may  be  sure  we  are  full  of 
hurry  in  fair  time.  It  is  hard  keeping  our  hearts  and  spirits 
in  any  good  order  when  we  are  in  a  cumbered  condition.  He 

that  lives  in  such  a  place  as  this  is,  and  that 
watchfulness.  ^as  ^°  ^°  w^h  such  as  we  have,  has  need  of  an 

item,  to  caution  him  to  take  heed,  every  mo- 
ment of  the  day. 

HON.     But  how  are  your  neighbors  for  quietness  ? 
CONTRITE.     They  are  much  more  moderate  now  than  for- 
merly.    You  know  how  Christian  and  Faithful  were  used  at 

our  town;  but  of  late,  I  say,  they  have  been  far 

Persecution  not  J  J 

so  hot  at  Vanity     more  moderate.     I  think  the  blood  of  Faithful 

Fair  as  formerly.     ,.      ,  ,  ,  .. 

lieth  with  load  upon  them  till  now;  tor  since 
they  burned  him,  they  have  been  ashamed  to  burn  any  more. 
In  those  days  we  were  afraid  to  walk  the  streets,  but  now  we 
can  show  our  heads.  Then  the  name  of  a  professor  was 
odious;  now,  specially  in  some  parts  of  our  town  (for  you 
know  our  town  is  large)  religion  is  counted  honorable. 

Then  said  Mr.  Contrite  to  them,  Pray,  how  fareth  it  with 
you  in  your  pilgrimage?  How  stands  the  country  affected 
towards  you? 

HON.  It  happens  to  us  as  it  happeneth  to  wayfaring  men 
— sometimes  our  way  is  clean,  sometimes  foul,  sometimes  u 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  289 

hill,  sometimes  down-hill;  we  are  seldom  at  a  certainty;  the 
wind  is  not  always  on  our  backs,  nor  is  every  one  a  friend 
that  we  meet  with  in  the  way.  We  have  met  with  some 
notable  rubs  already,  and  what  are  yet  behind  we  know  not, 
but  for  the  most  part  we  find  it  true,  that  has  been  talked  of, 
of  old,  A  good  man  must  suffer  trouble. 

CONTRITE.  You  talk  of  rubs;  what  rubs  have  you  met 
withal  ? 

HON.  Nay,  ask  Mr.  Great-heart  our  guide,  for  he  can 
give  the  best  account  of  that. 

GREAT-HEART.  We  have  been  beset  three  or  four  times 
already.  First,  Christiana  and  her  children  were  beset  with 
two  ruffians,  that  they  feared  would  a  took  away  their  lives. 
We  were  beset  with  Giant  Bloody-man,  Giant  Maul,  and 
Giant  Slay-good.  Indeed,  we  did  rather  beset  the  last,  than 
were  beset  of  him.  And  thus  it  was:  After  we  had  been  some 
time  at  the  house  of  "Gaius,  mine  host,  and  of  the  whole 
church,"  we  were  minded  upon  a  time  to  take  our  weapons 
with  us,  and  so  go  see  if  we  could  light  upon  any  of  those  that 
were  enemies  to  pilgrims  (for  we  heard  that  there  was  a  no- 
table one  thereabouts).  Now  Gaius  knew  his  haunt  better 
than  I,  because  he  dwelt  thereabout,  so  we  looked,  and  looked, 
till  at  last  we  discerned  the  mouth  of  his  cave;  then  we  were 
glad  and  plucked  up  our  spirits.  So  we  approached  up  to  his 
den;  and,  lo,  when  we  came  there,  he  had  dragged  by  mere 
force  into  his  net  this  poor  man,  Mr.  Feeble-mind,  and  was 
about  to  bring  him  to  his  end.  But  when  he  saw  us,  suppos- 
ing, as  we  thought,  he  had  had  another  prey,  he  left  the  poor 
rnan  in  his  hole,  and  came  out.  So  we  fell  to  it  full  sore,  and 
he  lustily  laid  about  him;  but  in  conclusion,  he  was  brought 
down  to  the  ground,  and  his  head  cut  off,  and  set  up  by  the 
wayside  for  a  terror  to  such  as  should  after  practise  such 
ungodliness.  That  I  tell  you  the  truth,  here  is  the  man  him- 
self to  affirm  it,  who  was  as  a  lamb  taken  out  of  the  mouth 
of  the  lion. 


290  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

FEEBLE.  Then  said  Mr.  Feeble-mind,  I  found  this  true 
to  my  cost,  and  comfort:  to  my  cost,  when  he  threatened  to 
pick  my  bones  every  moment;  and  to  my  comfort,  when  I 
saw  Mr.  Great-heart  and  his  friends  with  their  weapons  ap- 
proach so  near  for  my  deliverance. 

HOLY-MAN.     Then   said   Mr.   Holy-man,   There  are   two 
things  that  they  have  need  to  be  possessed  with 
^plech01^™™8     tnat  g°  on   pilgrimage:   courage,  and  an   un- 
spotted life.     If  they  have  not  courage,  they 
can  never  hold  on  their  way;  and  if  their  lives  be  loose,  they 
will  make  the  very  name  of  a  pilgrim  stink. 

LOVE-SAINT.     Then  said  Mr.  Love-saint,  I  hope  this  cau- 
tion is  not  needful  amongst  you.     But  truly 

WeechOVe~Saint'3      there   are    many    that    S°    UP°n    the   F0ad>    tlmt 

rather  declare  themselves  strangers  to  pilgrim- 
age, than  strangers  and  pilgrims  in  the  earth. 

DARE-NOT-LIE.     Then    said   Mr.   Dare-not-lie,    'Tis    true, 
they  neither  have  the  pilgrim's  weed,  nor  the  pilgrim's  cour- 
age; they  go  not  uprightly,  but  all  awry  with 

fa' speech"0* 'he     ^ielT  ^eet;  one  s^oe  Soes  inward,  another  out- 
ward, and  their  hosen  out  behind;  there  a  rag, 
and  there  a  rent,  to  the  disparagement  of  their  Lord. 

PENITENT.     These  things,  said  Mr.  Penitent,  they  ought 
to  be  troubled  for,  nor  are  the  pilgrims  like  to 

%I'sp™chmi  have   that  SraCe  PUt   UP°n    them  and    their   PiJ" 

grim's  progress  as  they  desire,  until  the  way 
is  cleared  of  such  spots  and  blemishes. 

Thus  they  sat  talking  and  spending  the  time,  until  supper 
was  set  upon  the  table;  unto  which  they  went  and  refreshed 
their  weary  bodies;  so  they  went  to  rest.  Now  they  stayed 
in  this  fair  a  great  while,  at  the  house  of  this  Mr.  Mnason, 
who  in  process  of  time  gave  his  daughter  Grace  unto  Samuel, 
Christiana's  son,  to  wife,  and  his  daughter  Martha  to  Joseph. 

The  time,  as  I  said,  that  they  lay  here  was  long  (for  it 
was  not  now  as  in  former  times).  Wherefore  the  pilgrims 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  291 

grew  acquainted  with  many  of  the  good  people  of  the  town, 
and  did  them  what  service  they  could.  Mercy,  as  she  was 
wont,  labored  much  for  the  poor;  wherefore  their  bellies  and 
backs  blessed  her,  and  she  was  there  an  ornament  to  her  pro- 
fession. And  to  say  the  truth  for  Grace,  Phebe,  and  Martha, 
they  were  all  of  a  very  good  nature,  and  did  much  good  in 
their  place.  They  were  also  all  of  them  very  fruitful,  so  that 
Christian's  name,  as  was  said  before,  was  like  to  live  in  the 
world. 

While  they  lay  here,  there  came  a  monster  out  of  the 

woods,  and  slew  many  of  the  people  of  the  town.     It  would 

also  carrv  awav  their  children,  and  teach  them 

A  monster.  •  i 

to  suck  its  whelps.  Now  no  man  in  the  town 
durst  so  much  as  face  this  monster;  but  all  men  fled  when 
they  heard  of  the  noise  of  his  coming. 

The  monster  was  like  unto  no  one  beast  upon  the  earth; 
its  body  was  like  a  dragon,  and  it  had  seven 

ftev.  xtni.  o. 

heads  and  ten  horns.     It  made  great  havoc  of 

His  shape.  , 

children,  and  yet  it  was  governed  by  a  woman. 
This  monster  propounded  conditions  to  men, 
and  such  men  as  loved  their  lives  more  than  their  souls,  ac- 
cepted of  those  conditions.     So  they  came  under. 

Now  this  Mr.  Great-heart,  together  with  these  that  came 
to  visit  the  pilgrims  at  Mr.  Mnason's  house,  entered  into  a 
covenant  to  go  and  engage  this  beast,  if  perhaps  they  might 
deliver  the  people  of  this  town  from  the  paw  and  mouths  of 
this  so  devouring  a  serpent. 

Then  did  Mr.  Great-heart,  Mr.  Contrite,  Mr.  Holy-man, 
Mr.  Dare-not-lie,  and  Mr.  Penitent,  with  their  weapons,  go 
forth  to  meet  him.     NovV  the  monster  at  first 
was  verv  rampant,  and  looked  upon  these  ene- 
mies with  great  disdain;  but  they  so  belabored 
him,  being  sturdy  men  at  arms,  that  they  made  him  make  a 
retreat.     So  they  came  home  to  Mr.  Mnason's  house  again. 
The  monster,  you  must  know,  had  his  certain  seasons  to 


292  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

come  out  in,  and  to  make  his  attempts  upon  the  children  of 
the  people  of  the  town;  also  these  seasons  did  these  valiant 
worthies  watch  him  in,  and  did  still  continually  assault  him, 
insomuch  that  in  process  of  time  he  became  not  only  wounded, 
but  lame;  also,  he  has  not  made  that  havoc  of  the  towns- 
men's children  as  formerly  he  has  done;  and  it  is  verily  be- 
lieved by  some  that  this  beast  will  die  of  his  wounds. 

This  therefore  made  Mr.  Great-heart  and  his  fellows  of 
great  fame  in  this  town;  so  that  many  of  the  people  that 
wanted  their  taste  of  things  yet  had  a  reverent  esteem  and 
respect  for  them.  Upon  this  account,  therefore,  it  was  that 
these  pilgrims  got  not  much  hurt  here.  True,  there  were 
some  of  the  baser  sort  that  could  see  no  more  than  a  mole, 
nor  understand  more  than  a  beast;  these  had  no  reverence 
for  these  men,  nor  took  they  notice  of  their  valor  or  adven- 
tures. 

Well,  the  time  grew  on  that  the  pilgrims  must  go  on  their 

way;  wherefore  they  prepared  for  their  journey.     They  sent 

for  their  friends,  they  conferred  with  them,  they  had  some 

time  set  apart,  therein  to  commit  each  other  to  the  protection 

of  their  Prince.     There  was  again  that  brought 

them  of  such  things  as  they  had,  that  were  fit 

for  the  weak  and  the  strong,  for  the  women  and  the  men,  and 

so  laded  them  with  such  things  as  were  necessary. 

Then  they  set  forwards  on  their  way;  and  their  friends 
accompanying  them  so  far  as  was  convenient,  they  again 
committed  each  other  to  the  protection  of  their  King,  and 
parted. 

They,  therefore,  that  were  of  the  pilgrims'  company  went 
on,  and  Mr.  Great-heart  went  before  them.  Now,  the  women 
and  children  being  weakly,  they  were  forced  to  go  as  they 
could  bear;  by  this  means  Mr.  Ready-to-halt  and  Mr.  Feeble- 
mind  had  more  to  sympathize  with  their  condition. 

When  they  were  gone  from  the  townsmen,  and  when  their 
friends  had  bid  them  farewell,  they  quickly  came  to  the  place 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  293 

where  Faithful  was  put  to  death.  There  therefore  they  made 
a  stand,  and  thanked  Him  that  had  enabled  him  to  bear  his 
cross  so  well;  and  the  rather,  because  they  now  found  that 
they  had  a  benefit  by  such  a  manly  suffering  as  his  was. 

They  went  on  therefore  after  this,  a  good  way  farther, 
talking  of  Christian  and  Faithful,  and  how  Hopeful  joined 
himself  to  Christian  after  that  Faithful  was  dead. 

Now  they  were  come  up  with  the  Hill  Lucre,  where  the 
silver  mine  was  which  took  Demas  off  from  his  pilgrimage, 
and  into  which,  as  some  think,  By-ends  fell 
PaTe  131  anc^  perished;  wherefore  they  considered  that. 

But  when  they  were  come  to  the  old  monument 
that  stood  over  against  the  Hill  Lucre,  to  wit,  to  the  Pillar  of 
Salt,  that  stood  also  within  view  of  Sodom  and  its  stinking 
lake,  they  marvelled,  as  did  Christian  before,  that  men  of 
that  knowledge  and  ripeness  of  wit  as  they  were  should  be 
so  blinded  as  to  turn  aside  here.  Only  they  considered  again, 
that  nature  is  not  affected  with  the  harms  that  others  have 
met  with,  specially  if  that  thing  upon  which  they  look  has 
an  attracting  virtue  upon  the  foolish  eye. 

I  saw  now  that  they  went  on  till  they  came  at  the  river 
that  was  on  this  side  of  the  Delectable  Moun- 
page  136.  tains; — to  the  river  where  the  fine  trees  grow 

Ps.  xxiii.  on  both  sides,  and  whose  leaves,  if  taken  in- 

wardly, are  good  against  surfeits;  where  the 
meadows  are  green  all  the  year  long;  and  where  they  might 
lie  down  safely. 

By  this  river-side,  in  the  meadow,  there  were  cotes  and 
folds  for  sheep,  an  house  built  for  the  nourishing  and  bringing 
up  of  those  lambs,  the  babes  of  those  women  that  go  on  pil- 
grimage.    Also  there  was  here  One  that  was 
?/a'xi  11  intrusted  with  them,  who  could  have  compas- 

sion, and  that  could  gather  these  lambs  with 
his  arm  and  carry  them  in  his  bosom,  and  that  could  gently 
lead  those  that  were  with  young.  Now  to  the  care  of  this 


294  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

man,  Christiana  admonished  her  foiir  daughters  to  commit 
their  little  ones,  that  by  these  waters  they  might  be  housed, 
Jer  xxiii  4  harbored,  succored,  and  nourished,  and  that 
Ezek.  xxxiv.  none  of  them  might  be  lacking  in  time  to  come. 
This  man,  if  any  of  them  go  astray  or  be  lost, 
he  will  bring  them  again  :  he  will  also  bind  up  that  which  was 
broken,  and  will  strengthen  them  that  are  sick.  Here  they 
will  never  want  meat,  and  drink,  and  clothing;  here  they 
will  be  kept  from  thieves  and  robbers;  for  this  man  will  die 
before  one  of  those  committed  to  his  trust  shall  be  lost.  Be- 
sides, here  they  shall  be  sure  to  have  good  nurture  and  ad- 
monition, and  shall  be  taught  to  walk  in  right  paths  —  and 
that,  you  know,  is  a  favor  of  no  small  account.  Also  here, 
as  you  see,  are  delicate  waters,  pleasant  meadows,  dainty 
flowers,  variety  of  trees,  and  such  as  bear  wholesome  fruit  — 
fruit,  not  like  that  that  .Matthew  eat  of,  that  fell  over  the 
wall  out  of  Beelzebub's  garden,  but  fruit  that  procureth 
health  where  there  is  none,  and  that  continueth  and  in- 
creaseth  it  where  it  is. 

So  they  were  content  to  commit  their  little  ones  to  him; 
and  that  which  was  also  an  encouragement  to  them  so  to  do 
was,  for  that  all  this  was  to  be  at  the  charge  of  the  King,  and 
so  was  as  an  hospital  to  young  children  and  orphans. 

Now  they  went  on;  and  when  they  were  come  to  By-path 

Meadow,  to  the  stile  over  which  Christian  went  with  his  i  el- 

low  Hopeful,  when  they  were  taken  by  Giant 

They  being  come      ^  .  ,  .  ^  . 

to  By-path  stile,     Despair  and  put  into  Doubting  Castle;  they 
have  a  ™iuck  °      sat  down  and  consulted  what  was  best  to  be 


done;  to  wit,  now  they  were  so  strong,  and  had 
^°^  sucn  a  man  as  Mr.  Great-heart  for  their 
conductor,  whether  they  had  not  best  to  make 
an  attempt  upon  the  Giant,  demolish  his  castle,  and,  if  there 
were  any  pilgrims  in  it,  to  set  them  at  liberty,  before  they 
went  any  farther.  So  one  said  one  thing,  and  another  said 
the  contrary.  One  questioned  if  it  was  lawful  to  go  upon 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  295 

unconsecrated  ground,  another  said  they  might,  provided 
their  end  was  good;  but  Mr.  Great-heart  said,  Though  that 
assertion  offered  last  cannot  be  universally  true,  yet  I  have  a 
commandment  to  resist  sin,  to  overcome  evil,  to  fight  the 
good  fight  of  faith;  and  I  pray,  with  whom  should  I  fight 
this  good  fight,  if  not  with  Giant  Despair?  I  will  therefore 
attempt  the  taking  away  of  his  life,  and  the  demolishing  of 
Doubting  Castle.  Then  said  he,  Who  will  go  with  me? 
Then  said  old  Honest,  I  will.  And  so  will  we  too,  said 
Christiana's  four  sons,  Matthew,  Samuel, 
r/°u  ll  James,  and  Joseph;  for  they  were  young  men 

and   strong.     So  they  left   the  women  in  the 
road,   and  with   them   Mr.    Feeble-mind,   and   Mr.   Ready- 
to-halt  with  his  crutches,  to  be  their  guard  until  they  came 
back;  for  in  that  place,  though  Giant  Despair 
dwelt  so  near,  they  keeping  in  the  road,  a  lit- 
tle child  might  lead  them. 

So  Mr.  Great-heart,  old  Honest,  and  the  four  young  men 
went  to  go  up  to  Doubting  Castle  to  look  for  Giant  Despair. 
When  they  came  at  the  Castle  gate,  they  knocked  for  entrance 
with  an  unusual  noise.  At  that  the  old  Giant  comes  to  the 
gate,  and  Diffidence  his  wife,  follows.  Then  said  he,  Who, 
and  what  is  he  that  is  so  hardy,  as  after  this  manner  to 
molest  the  Giant  Despair  ?  Mr.  Great-heart  replied,  It  is  I, 
Great-heart,  one  of  the  King  of  the  Celestial  Country's  con- 
ductors of  pilgrims  to  their  place;  and  I  demand  of  thee  that 
thou  open  thy  gates  for  my  entrance.  Prepare  thyself  also 
to  fight,  for  I  am  come  to  take  away  thy  head  and  to  demolish 
Doubting  Castle. 

Now  Giant  Despair,  because  he  was  a  giant,  thought  no 
man  could  overcome  him:  and  again,  thought  he,  Since  here- 
tofore I  have  made  a  conquest  of  angels,  shall 
Great-heart  make  me  afraid  ?     So  he  harnessed 
himself  and  went  out.     He  had  a  cap  of  steel 
upon  his  head,  a  breastplate  of  fire  girded  to  him,  and  he 


296  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

came  out  in  iron  shoes,  with  a  great  club  in  his  hand.  Then 
these  six  men  made  up  to  him,  and  beset  him  behind  and 
before;  also  when  Diffidence  the  giantess  came  up  to  help 
him,  old  Mr.  Honest  cut  her  down  at  one  blow.  Then  they 

fought  for  their  lives,  and  Giant  Despair  was 
fooRr die.  brought  down  to  the  ground,  but  was  very  loath 

to  die.    He  struggled  hard,  and  had,  as  they  say, 

as  many  lives  as  a  cat,  but  Great-heart  was  his  death,  for  he 

left  him  not  till  he  had  severed  his  head  from  his  shoulders. 

Then  they  fell  to  demolishing  Doubting  Castle,1  and  that, 

you  know,  might  with  ease  be  done,  since  Giant  Despair  was 

dead.     They  were  seven  days  in  destroying  of 

th^t;  and  in  it  of  pilgrims  they  found  one  Mr. 

Despondency,  almost  starved  to  death,  and 
one  Much-afraid,  his  daughter;  these  two  they  saved  alive. 
But  it  would  have  made,  you  a- wondered  to  have  seen  the 
dead  bodies  that  lay  here  and  there  in  the  castle  yard,  and 
how  full  of  dead  men's  bones  the  dungeon  was. 

When  Mr.  Great-heart  and  his  companions  had  performed 
this  exploit,  they  took  Mr.  Despondency  and  his  daughter 
Much-afraid  into  their  protection,  for  they  were  honest 
people,  though  they  were  prisoners  in  Doubting  Castle  to 
that  tyrant  Giant  Despair.  They  therefore,  I  say,  took  with 
them  the  head  of  the  Giant  (for  his  body  they  had  buried 
under  a  heap  of  stones) ,  and  down  to  the  road  and  to  their 
companions  they  came,  and  showed  them  what  they  had 
done.  Now  when  Feeble-mind  and  Ready-to-halt  saw  that 
it  was  the  head  of  Giant  Despair  indeed,  they  were  very 

jocund  and  merry.     Now  Christiana,  if  need 

They  have  music 

and  dancing  for     was,  could  play  upon  the  viol,  and  her  daughter 
Mercy  upon  the  lute;   so,  since  they  were  so 


merry  disposed,  she  played  them  a  lesson,  and  Ready-to-halt 

1  Though  Doubting  Castle  be  demolished, 
And  the  Giant  Despair  hath  lost  his  head, 
Sin  can  rebuild  the  castle,  make't  remain, 
And  make  Despair  the  giant  live  again. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  297 

would  dance.  So  he  took  Despondency's  daughter,  named 
Much-afraid,  by  the  hand,  and  to  dancing  they  went  in  the 
road.  True,  he  could  not  dance  without  one  crutch  in  his 
hand,  but  I  promise  you  he  footed  it  well:  also  the  girl  was 
to  be  commended,  for  she  answered  the  music  handsomely. 

As  for  Mr.  Despondency,  the  music  was  not  much  to  him, 
he  was  for  feeding  rather  than  dancing,  for  that  he  was 
almost  starved.  So  Christiana  gave  him  some  of  her  bottle 
of  spirits  for  present  relief,  and  then  prepared  him  something 
to  eat;  and  in  little  time  the  old  gentleman  came  to  himself, 
and  began  to  be  finely  revived. 

Now  I  saw  in  my  dream,  when  all  these  things  were  fin- 
ished, Mr.  Great-heart  took  the  head  of  Giant  Despair,  and 
set  it  upon  a  pole  by  the  highway  side,  right  over  against  the 
pillar  that  Christian  erected  for  a  caution  to  pilgrims  that 
came  after,  to  take  heed  of  entering  into  his  grounds. 

Then  he  writ  under  it,  upon  a  marble  stone,  these  verses 
following  :  — 


of  ^eSmne  This  is  the  head  °f  him'  whose  name 

In  former  times  did  pilgrims  terrify. 

His  Castle's  down;  and  Diffidence,  his  wife, 
Brave  Master  Great-heart  has  bereft  of  life. 
Despondency,  his  daughter  Much-afraid, 
Great-heart  for  them  also  the  man  has  play'd. 
Who  hereof  doubts,  if  he'll  but  cast  his  eye 
Up  hither,  may  his  scruples  satisfy. 
This  head  also,  when  doubting  cripples  dance, 
Doth  show  from  fears  they  have  deliverance. 

When  these  men  had  thus  bravely  showed  themselves 
against  Doubting  Castle,  and  had  slain  Giant  Despair,  they 
went  forward,  and  went  on  till  they  came  to  the  Delectable 
Mountains,  where  Christian  and  Hopeful  refreshed  them- 
selves with  the  varieties  of  the  place.  They  also  acquainted 
themselves  with  the  Shepherds  there,  who  welcomed  them, 
as  they  had  done  Christian  before,  unto  the  Delectable 
Mountains. 


298  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

Now  the  Shepherds  seeing  so  great  a  train  follow  Mr. 
Great-heart  (for  with  him  they  were  well  acquainted),  they 
said  unto  him,  Good  Sir,  you  have  got  a  goodly  company 
here;  pray  where  did  you  find  all  these? 
The  guide's  Then  Mr.  Great-heart  replied — 

speech  to  the 

Shepherds.  First,  here  is  Christiana  and  her  train, 

Her  sons,  and  her  sons'  wives,  who,  like  the  wain, 
Keep  by  the  pole,  and  do  by  compass  steer 
From  sin  to  grace,  else  they  had  not  been  here: 
Next,  here's  old  Honest,  come  on  pilgrimage, 
Ready-to-halt  too,  who  I  dare  engage 
True-hearted  is,  and  so  is  Feeble-mind, 
Who  willing  was  not  to  be  left  behind; 
Despondency,  good  man,  is  coming  after, 
And  so  also  is  Much-afraid  his  daughter. 
May  we  have  entertainment  here,  or  must 
We  farther  go?     Let's  know  whereon  to  trust. 

Then  said  the  Shepherds,  This  is  a  comfortable  company. 
You  are  welcome  to  us;  for  we  have  for  the  feeble,  as  for  the 

strong.  Our  Prince  has  an  eye  to  what  is  done 
entertainment,  to  the  least  of  these;  therefore  infirmity  must 
Matt  xxv  40  n°t  be  a  block  to  our  entertainment.  So  they 

had  them  to  the  palace  door,  and  then  said 
unto  them,  Come  in,  Mr.  Feeble-mind;  come  in,  Mr.  Ready-to- 
halt;  come  in,  Mr.  Despondency,  and  Mrs.  Much-afraid  his 
daughter.  These,  Mr.  Great-heart,  said  the  Shepherds  to 
the  guide,  we  call  in  by  name,  for  that  they  are  most  subject 
to  draw  back;  but  as  for  you,  and  the  rest  that  are  strong,  we 

leave  you  to  your  wonted  liberty.  Then  said 
fahel^p^df.  Mr.  Great-heart,  This  day  I  see  that  grace  doth 
Ezek.  xxxiv.  21.  shine  in  your  faces,  and  that  you  are  my  Lord's 

Shepherds  indeed ;  for  that  you  have  not  pushed 

these  diseased  neither  with  side  nor  shoulder,  but  have  rather 

strewed  their  way  into  the  palace  with  flowers,  as  you  should. 

So  the  feeble  and  weak  went  in,  and  Mr.  Great-heart  and 

the  rest  did  follow.     When  they  were  also  set  down,  the 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  299 

Shepherds  said  to  those  of  the  weakest  sort,  What  is  it  that 
you  would  have?  for,  said  they,  all  things  must  be  managed 
here  to  the  supporting  of  the  weak,  as  well  as  the  warning  of 
the  unruly. 

So  they  made  them  a  feast  of  things  easy  of  digestion,  and 
that  were  pleasant  to  the  palate,  and  nourishing;  the  which, 
when  they  had  received,  they  went  to  their  rest,  .each  one 
respectively  unto  his  proper  place.  When  morning  was 
come,  because  the  mountains  were  high,  and  the  day  clear, 
and  because  it  was  the  custom  of  the  Shepherds  to  show  to 
the  pilgrims,  before  their  departure,  some  rarities;  therefore, 
after  they  were  ready,  and  had  refreshed  themselves,  the 
Shepherds  took  them  out  into  the  fields,  and  showed  them 
first  what  they  had  showed  to  Christian  before. 

Then  they  had  them  to  some  new  places.  The  first  was 
to  Mount  Marvel,  where  they  looked,  and  behold  a  man  at 

a  distance,  that  tumbled  the  hills  about  with 
Marvel.  words.  Then  they  asked  the  Shepherds  what 

that  should  mean?  So  they  told  them  that 
that  man  was  the  son  of  one  Great-grace,  of  whom  you  read 
in  the  first  part  of  the  records  of  the  Pilgrim's  Progress.  And 

he  is  set  there  to  teach  pilgrims  how  to  believe 
pag*  156.  down,  or  to  tumble  out  of  their  ways,  what 

Mark  xi.  23,  «4.    difficulties  they  shall  meet  with,  by  faith.    Then 

said  Mr.  Great-heart,  I  know  him ;  he  is  a  man 
above  many. 

Then  they  had  them  to  another  place,  called  Mount  Inno- 
cent; and  there  they  saw  a  man  clothed  all  in  white,  and  two 

men,  Prejudice  and  Ill-will,  continually  casting 

Mount  Innocent.  J 

dirt  upon  him.  Now  behold  the  dirt,  whatso- 
ever they  cast  at  him,  would  in  little  time  fall  off  again,  and 
his  garment  would  look  as  clear  as  if  no  dirt  had  been  cast 
thereat. 

Then  said  the  pilgrims,  What  means  this  ?  The  Shepherds 
answered,  This  man  is  named  Godly- man,  and  this  garment 


300  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

is  to  show  the  innocency  of  his  life.  Now  those  that  throw 
dirt  at  him,  are  such  as  hate  his  well-doing;  but,  as  you  see, 
the  dirt  will  not  stick  upon  his  cloths,  so  it  shall  be  with  him 
that  liveth  truly  innocently  in  the  world.  Whoever  they  be 
that  would  make  such  men  dirty,  they  labor  all  in  vain;  for 
God,  by  that  a  little  time  is  spent,  will  cause  that  their  inno- 
cence shall  break  forth  as  the  light,  and  their  righteousness 
as  the  noonday. 

Then  they  took  them,  and  had  them  to  Mount  Charity, 

where  they  showred  them  a  man  that  had  a  bundle  of  cloth 

lying  before  him,  out  of  which  he  cut  coats  and 

Mount  Charity. 

garments  tor  the  poor  that  stood  about  him; 

yet  his  bundle  or  roll  of  cloth  was  never  the  less. 

Then  said  they,  What  should  this  be?  This  is,  said  the 
Shepherds,  to  show  you,  that  he  that  has  a  heart  to  give  of 
his  labor  to  the  poor,  shall  never  want  wherewithal.  He 
that  watereth  shall  be  watered  himself.  And  the  cake  that 
the  widow  gave  to  the  prophet  did  not  cause  that  she  had 
ever  the  less  in  her  barrel. 

They  had  them  also  to  a  place  where  they  saw  one  Fool, 

arid  one  Want-wit,  washing  of  an  Ethiopian,  with  intention 

to  make  him  white;  but  the  more  they  washed 

The  work  of  one 

Fool,  and  one  him  the  blacker  he  was.  They  then  asked  the 
Shepherds  what  that  should  mean.  So  they 
told  them,  saying,  Thus  shall  it  be  with  the  vile  person;  all 
means  used  to  get  such  an  one  a  good  name  shall  in  conclu- 
sion tend  but  to  make  him  more  abominable.  Thus  it  was 
with  the  Pharisees,  and  so  shall  it  be  with  all  hypocrites. 

Then  said  Mercy,  the  wife  of  Matthew,  to  Christiana  her 
mother,  Mother,  I  would,  if  it  might  be,  see  the  hole  in  the 
Merc  has  a  hill;  or  that  commonly  called  the  by  way  to  hell. 
mind  to  see  the  go  her  mother  brake  her  mind  to  the  Shep- 

hole  in  the  hill.  TIT 

Part  i.  herds.     Then  they  went  to  the  door.     It  was 

in  the  side  of  a  hill,  and  they  opened  it,  and  bid 

Mercy  hearken  a  while.     So  she  hearkened,  and  heard  one 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  301 

saying,  Cursed  be  my  father  for  holding  of  my  feet  back  from 
the  way  of  peace  and  life!  And  another  said,  O  that  I  had 
been  torn  in  pieces  before  I  had,  to  save  my  life,  lost  my 
soul !  And  another  said,  If  I  were  to  live  again,  how  would 
I  deny  myself,  rather  than  come  to  this  place!  Then  there 
was  as  if  the  very  earth  had  groaned  and  quaked  under  the 
feet  of  this  young  woman  for  fear.  So  she  looked  white, 
and  came  trembling  away,  saying,  Blessed  be  he  and  she 
that  is  delivered  from  this  place. 

Now  when  the  Shepherds  had  showed  them  all  these  things, 
then  they  had  them  back  to  the  palace,  and  entertained  them 
with  what  the  house  would  afford.  But  Mercy,  'being  a 
young  and  breeding  woman,  longed  for  something  that  she 
saw  there,  but  was  ashamed  to  ask.  Her  mother-in-law  then 
asked  her  what  she  ailed,  for  she  looked  as  one  not  well. 
Then  said  Mercy,  There  is  a  looking-glass 
™7/or°whecuh'  hangs  up  in  the  dining-room,  off  of  which  I  can- 
not take  my  mind;  if  therefore  I  have  it  not,  I 
think  I  shall  miscarry.  Then  said  her  mother,  I  will  mention 
thy  wants  to  the  Shepherds,  and  they  will  not  deny  it  thee. 
But  she  said,  I  am  ashamed  that  these  men  should  know 
that  I  longed.  Nay,  my  daughter,  said  she,  it  is  no  shame, 
but  a  virtue,  to  long  for  such  a  thing  as  that.  So  Mercy 
said,  Then,  mother,  if  you  please,  ask  the  Shepherds  if  they 
are  willing  to  sell  it. 

Now  the  glass  was  one  of  a  thousand.     It  would  present  a 

man  one  way,  with  his  own  features  exactly,  and,  turn  it  but 

another  way,  and  it  would  show  one  the  very 

WafdqfQod.        ^ace  ano^  similitude  of  the  Prince  of  pilgrims 

James  i.  23.          himself.     Yea,  I  have  talked  with  them  that 

can  tell,  and  they  have  said  they  have  seen  the 

very  crown  of  thorns  upon  his  head,  by  looking  in  that  glass; 

they  have  therein  also  seen   the  holes  in  his 

1  Cor.  xin.  1&        ,..,.„  .  Ar  T 

hands,  in  his   feet,  and   his  side.     Yea,   sucn 
an  excellency  is  there  in  that  glass,  that  it  will  show  him  to 


302  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

one  where  they  have  a  mind  to  see  him,  whether  living  or 
dead,   whether    in    earth   or   heaven,   whether 

2  Cor.  in.  18.  .  . 

in  a  state  ot  humiliation  or  in  his  exaltation, 
whether  coming  to  suffer  or  coming  to  reign.  Christiana 
therefore  went  to  the  Shepherds  apart  (now  the  names  of 
the  Shepherds  are  Knowledge,  Experience,  Watchful,  and 

Sincere),  and  said  unto  them,  There  is  one  of 
page  148.  mv  daughters  a  breeding  woman,  that  I  think 

doth  long  for  something  that  she  hath  seen  in 
this  house,  and  she  thinks  she  shall  miscarry  if  she  should  by 
you  be  denied. 

EXPERIENCE.  Call  her,  call  her;  she  shall  assuredly  have 
what  we  can  help  her  to.  So  they  called  her,  and  said  to  her, 

Mercy,  what  is  that  thing  thou  wouldest  have  ? 
*""    Then  she  blushed  and  said,  The  great  glass  that 

hangs  up  in  the  dining-room.  So  Sincere  ran 
and  fetched  it,  and  with  a  joyful  consent  it  was  given  her. 
Then  she  bowed  her  head,  and  gave  thanks,  and  said,  By  this 
I  know  that  I  have  obtained  favor  in  your  eyes. 

They  also  gave  the  other  young  women  such  things  as 
they  desired,  and  to  their  husbands  great  commendations, 
for  that  they  joined  with  Mr.  Great-heart  to  the  slaying  of 
Giant  Despair,  and  the  demolishing  of  Doubting  Castle. 

About  Christiana's  neck  the  Shepherds  put  a 
Shepherds  adorn    bracelet,  and  so  they  did  about  the  necks  of 

her  four  daughters;  also  they  put  earrings  in 
their  ears,  and  jewels  on  their  foreheads. 

When  they  were  minded  to  go  hence,  they  let  them  go  in 
peace,  but  gave  not  to  them  those  certain  cautions  which 

before  were  given  to  Christian  and  his  com- 
page  152  panion.  The  reason  was,  for  that  these  had 

Great-heart  to  be  their  guide,  who  was  one  that 
was  well  acquainted  with  things,  and  so  could  give  them  their 
cautions  more  seasonably,  to  wit,  even  then  when  the  danger 
was  nigh  the  approaching. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  303 

What  cautious  Christian  and  his  companions  had  received 
of  the  Shepherds,  they  had  also  lost,  by  that 
pa™  165  the  time  was  come  that  they  had  need  to  put 

them  in  practice.     Wherefore  here  was  the  ad- 
vantage that  this  company  had  over  the  other. 

From  hence  they  went  on  singing,  and  they  said — 

Behold,  how  fitly  are  the  stages  set 
For  their  relief  that  pilgrims  are  become: 
And  how  they  us  receive  without  one  let, 
That  make  the  other  life  our  mark  and  home ! 


What  novelties  they  have,  to  us  they  give, 
That  we,  though  pilgrims,  joyful  lives  may  live: 
They  do  upon  us,  too,  such  things  bestow, 
That  show  we  pilgrims  are,  where'er  we  go. 


When  they  were  gone  from  the  Shepherds,  they  quickly 
came  to  the  place  where  Christian  met  with  one  Turn-away, 

that  dwelt  in  the  town  of  Apostasy.  Where- 
page  154  ^ore  °^  n™  ^r-  Great-heart  their  guide  did 

now  put  them  in  mind,  saying,  This  is  the  place 
where  Christian  met  with  one  Turn-away,  who  carried  with 
him  the  character  of  his  rebellion  at  his  back.  And  this  I 

have  to  say  concerning  this  man;  He  would 
Turn-away  hearken  to  no  counsel,  but  once  a-falling,  per- 

suasion  could  not  stop  him.     When  he  came  to 

the  place  where  the  Cross  and  the  Sepulchre 
was,  he  did  meet  with  one  that  did  bid  him  look  there;  but 
he  gnashed  with  his  teeth,  and  stamped,  and  said  he  was 

resolved  to  go  back  to  his  own  town.     Before 

he  came  to  the  gate,  he  met  with  Evangelist, 
who  offered  to  lay  hands  on  him  to  turn  him  into  the  way 
again.  But  this  Turn-away  resisted  him,  and  having  done 
much  despite  unto  him,  he  got  away  over  the  wall,  and  so 
escaped  his  hand. 

Then  they  went  on;  and  just  at  the  place  where  Little-faith 


304  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

formerly  was  robbed,  there  stood  a  man  with  his  sword  drawn, 

and  his  face  all  bloody.     Then  said  Mr.  Great- 
One  Vahant- 
for-truth  beset        heart,   What  art  thou  ?     The  man  made  an- 

with  thieves.  T  ,  .     _.T   .. 

swer,  saying,  I  am  one  whose  name  is  Valiant- 
for-truth.  I  am  a  pilgrim,  and  am  going  to  the  Celestial 
City.  Now  as  I  was  in  my  way,  there  were  three  men  did 
beset  me,  and  propounded  unto  me  these  three  things:  1. 
Whether  I  would  become  one  of  them  ?  2.  Or  go  back  from 
whence  I  came  ?  3.  Or  die  upon  the  place  ?  To  the  first  I 

answered,  I  had  been  a  true  man  a  long  season, 

Prov.  i.  10-14. 

and  therefore  it  could  not  be  expected  that  I 
now  should  cast  in  my  lot  with  thieves.  Then  they  de- 
manded what  I  would  say  to  the  second.  So  I  told  them 
that  the  place  from  whence  I  came,  had  I  not  found  incom- 
modity  there,  I  had  not  forsaken  it  at  all;  but  finding  it  alto- 
gether unsuitable  to  me,  and  very  unprofitable  for  me,  I  for- 
sook it  for  this  way.  Then  they  asked  me  what  I  said  to  the 
third.  And  I  told  them,  my  life  cost  more  dear  far,  than 
that  I  should  lightly  give  it  away.  Besides,  you  have  noth- 
ing to  do  thus  to  put  things  to  my  choice;  wherefore,  at  your 
peril  be  it  if  you  meddle.  Then  these  three,  to  wit,  Wild-head, 
Inconsiderate,  and  Pragmatic,  drew  upon  me,  and  I  also  drew 
upon  them. 

So  we  fell  to  it,  one  against  three,  for  the  space  of  above 
three  hours.     They  have  left  upon  me,  as  you  see,  some  of 

the  marks  of  their  valor,  and  have  also  carried 

How  he  behaved 

himself,  and  put    away  with  them  some  of  mine.     They  are  but 

them  to  flight.  .  ^  ,  .    ,  , 

just  now  gone;  I  suppose  they  might,  as  the  say- 
ing is,  hear  your  horse  dash,  and  so  they  betook  them  to  flight. 
GREAT-HEART.     But   here   was   great    odds, 

Great-heart  ,, 

wonders  at  three  against  one. 

VALIANT.     'Tis  true,  but  little  and  more  are 

Ps  xxvii  3  nothing  to  him  that  has  the  truth  on  his  side. 

"Though  an  host  should  encamp  against  me," 

said    one,    "my   heart    shall    not  fear:  though   war   should 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  305 

rise  against  me,  in  this  will  I  be  confident,"  etc.  Besides, 
said  he,  I  have  read  in  some  records,  that  one  man  has  fought 
an  army;  and  how  many  did  Samson  slay  with  the  jaw-bone 
of  an  ass  ? 

GREAT-HEART.  Then  said  the  guide,  Why  did  you  not 
cry  out,  that  some  might  have  come  in  for  your  succor? 

VALIANT.  So  I  did — to  my  King,  who  I  knew  could  hear, 
and  afford  invisible  help,  and  that  was  sufficient  for  me. 

GREAT-HEART.     Then  said  Great-heart  to  Mr.  Valiant-for- 

truth,  thou  hast  worthily  behaved  thyself:  let  me  see  thy 

Isa  ii  3  sword.     So  he  showed  it  him.     When  he  had 

taken  it  in  his  hand,  and  looked   thereon   a 

while,  he  said,  Ha!  it  is  a  right  Jerusalem  blade. 

VALIANT.  It  is  so.  Let  a  man  have  one  of  these  blades, 
with  a  hand  to  wield  it,  and  skill  to  use  it,  and 

hipn.  vi.  lz-17. 

he  may  venture  upon  an  angel  with  it.     He 
need  not  fear  its  holding,  if  he  can  but  tell  how 

to  lay  on.     Its  edges  will  never  blunt.     It  will  cut  flesh  and 

bones,  and  soul,  and  spirit  and  all. 

GREAT-HEART.     But  you  fought  a  great  while;  I  wonder 

you  were  not  weary. 

2  Sam  xxiii  io         VALIANT.     I  fought  till  my  sword  did  cleave 
to  my  hand;  and  when  they  were  joined  to- 

1  he  Word. 

The  Faith.  gether,  as  if  a  sword  grew  out  ot  my  arm,  and 

when  the  blood  ran  through  my  fingers,  then  I 
fought  with  most  courage. 

GREAT-HEART.  Thou  hast  done  well.  Thou  hast  resisted 
unto  blood,  striving  against  sin.  Thou  shalt  abide  by  us, 
come  in  and  go  out  with  us;  for  we  are  thy  companions. 

Then  they  took  him,  and  washed  his  wounds,  and  gave 
him  of  what  they  had  to  refresh  him;  and  so  they  went  on 
together.  Now  as  they  went  on,  because  Mr.  Great-heart 
was  delighted  in  him  (for  he  loved  one  greatly  that  he  found 
to  be  a  man  of  his  hands),  and  because  there  were  with  his 
company  them  that  were  feeble  and  weak,  therefore  he  ques- 


306  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

tioned  with  him  about  many  things;  as,  first,  what  country- 
man he  was  ? 

VALIANT.  I  am  of  Dark-land;  for  there  I  was  born,  and 
there  my  father  and  mother  are  still. 

GREAT-HEART.  Dark-land,  said  the  guide;  doth  not  that 
lie  upon  the  same  coast  with  the  City  of  Destruction  ? 

VALIANT.     Yes,  it  doth.     Now,  that  which  caused  me  to 

come  on  pilgrimage  was  this :  We  had  one  Mr.  Tell- true  came 

into  our  parts,  and  he  told  it  about  what  Chris- 

How  Mr.  m  ? 

Valiant  came  to     tian  had  done,  and  went  from  the  City  of  De- 

go  on  pilgrimage.  .  11  i        i     j    £        '  i  i  • 

struction;  namely,  how  he  had  forsaken  his 
wife  and  children,  and  had  betaken  himself  to  a  pilgrim's  life. 
It  was  also  confidently  reported  how  he  had  killed  a  serpent 
that  did  come  out  to  resist  him  in  his  journey,  and  how  he 
got  through  to  whither  he  intended.  It  was  also  told  what 
welcome  he  had  at  all  his  Lord's  lodgings,  specially  when  he 
came  to  the  gates  of  the  Celestial  City;  for  there,  said  the 
man,  he  was  received  with  sound  of  trumpet  by  a  company 
of  Shining  Ones.  He  told  it  also  how  all  the  bells  in  the  city 
did  ring  for  joy  at  his  reception,  and  what  golden  garments 
he  was  clothed  with;  with  many  other  things  that  now  I  shall 
forbear  to  relate.  In  a  word,  that  man  so  told  the  stor3r  of 
Christian  and  his  travels,  that  my  heart  fell  into  a  burning 
haste  to  be  gone  after  him;  nor  could  father  or  mother  stay 
me:  so  I  got  from  them,  and  am  come  thus  far  on  my 
way. 

GREAT-HEART.     You  came  in  at  the  gate,  did  you  not  ? 

VALIANT.     Yes,  yes;  for  the  same  man  also 

He  begins  right.  . 

told  us  that  all  would  be  nothing,  if  we  did  not 
begin  to  enter  this  way  at  the  gate. 

GREAT-HEART.     Look  you,  said  the  guide  to 
name  /anwu*.        Christiana,  the  pilgrimage  of  your  husband,  and 
what  he  has  gotten  thereby,  is  spread  abroad 
far  and  near. 

VALIANT.     Why,  is  this  Christian's  wife? 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  307 

GREAT-HEART.  Yes,  that  it  is ;  and  these  are  also  her  four 
sons. 

VALIANT.     What!  and  going  on  pilgrimage  too  ? 

GREAT-HEART.     Yes,  verily;  they  are  following  after. 
.  VALIANT.     It    glads    me    at    heart!     Good 

rejoiced  to  see        man !  how  joyful  will  he  be,  when  he  shall  see 

Christian's  wife.        .  ,,  ..,    ,  . 

them  that  would  not  go  with  him,  yet  to  enter 
after  him  in  at  the  gates  into  the  city! 

GREAT- HEART.  Without  doubt  it  will  be  a  comfort  to 
him;  for,  next  to  the  joy  of  seeing  himself  there,  it  will  be  a 
joy  to  meet  there  his  wife  and  his  children. 

VALIANT.  But  now  you  are  upon  that,  pray  let  me  hear 
your  opinion  about  it.  Some  make  a  question,  whether  we 
shall  know  one  another  when  we  are  there  ? 

GREAT-HEART.  Do  they  think  they  shall  know  themselves 
then?  or  that  they  shall  rejoice  to  see  themselves  in  that 
bliss  ?  And  if  they  think  they  shall  know  and  do  these,  why 
not  know  others,  and  rejoice  in  their  welfare  also  ? 

Again,  since  relations  are  our  second  self,  though  that 
state  will  be  dissolved  there,  yet  why  may  it  not  be  rationally 
concluded  that  we  shall  be  more  glad  to  see  them  there,  than 
to  see  they  are  wanting  ? 

VALIANT.  Well,  I  perceive  whereabouts  you  are  as  to 
this.  Have  you  any  more  things  to  ask  me  about  my  begin- 
ning to  come  on  pilgrimage  ? 

GREAT-HEART.  Yes.  Were  your  father  and  mother  will- 
ing that  you  should  become  a  pilgrim? 

VALIANT.  O  no!  They  used  all  means  imaginable  to 
persuade  me  to  stay  at  home. 

GREAT-HEART.     Why,  what  could  they  say  against  it  ? 
The  reat  VALIANT.     They  said  it  was  an  idle  life;  and 

stumbling-blocks     if  J  myself  were  not  inclined  to  sloth  and  lazi- 

that  by  his 

friends  were  laid    ness,  I  would  never  countenance  a   pilgrim  s 

in  his  way.  ,..  . 

condition. 
GREAT-HEART.     And  what  did  they  say  else? 


308  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

VALIANT.  Why,  they  told  me  that  it  was  a  dangerous 
way;  yea,  the  most  dangerous  way  in  the  world,  said  they,  is 
that  which  the  pilgrims  go. 

GREAT-HEART.  Did  they  show  wherein  this  way  is  so 
dangerous  ? 

VALIANT.     Yes,  and  that  in  many  particulars. 

GREAT-HEART.     Name  some  of  them. 

VALIANT.  They  told  me  of  the  Slough  of  Despond,  where 
Christian  was  well-nigh  smothered.  They  told  me  that  there 
were  archers  standing  ready  in  Beelzebub 
JtumUing-block.  Castle  to  shoot  them  that  should  knock  at 
the  Wicket-gate  for  entrance.  They  told  me 
also  of  the  wood,  and  dark  mountains,  of  the  Hill  Difficulty, 
of  the  lions,  and  also  of  the  three  giants,  Bloody-man,  Maul, 
and  Slay-good.  They  said  moreover,  that  there  was  a  foul 
fiend  haunted  the  Valley  of  Humiliation;  and  that  Chris- 
tian was  by  him  almost  bereft  of  life.  Besides,  said  they, 
you  must  go  over  the  Valley  of  the  Shadow  of  Death, 
where  the  hobgoblins  are,  where  the  light  is  darkness,  where 
the  way  is  full  of  snares,  pits,  traps,  and  gins.  They  told  me 
also  of  Giant  Despair,  of  Doubting  Castle,  and  of  the  ruins 
that  the  pilgrims  met  with  there.  Further  they  said  I  must 
go  over  the  Enchanted  Ground,  which  was  dangerous.  And 
that  after  all  this,  I  should  find  a  river,  over  which  I  should 
find  no  bridge,  and  that  the  river  did  lie  betwixt  me  and  the 
Celestial  Country. 

GREAT-HEART.     And  was  this  all  ? 

VALIANT.     No.     They  also  told  me  that  this 

The  second.  .      J 

way  was  lull  or  deceivers,  and  of  persons  that 
lay  await  there,  to  turn  good  men  out  of  the  path. 
GREAT-HEART.     But  how  did  they  make  that  out  ? 
VALIANT.     They  told  me  that  Mr.  Worldly- Wiseman  did 

there  lie  in  wait  to  deceive.     They  also  said 

The  third.  . 

that  there  was  Formality  and  Hypocrisy  con- 
tinually on  the  road.     They  said  also  that  By-ends,  Talkative, 


THE   PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  309 

or  Demas  would  go  near  to  gather  me  up;  that  the  Flatterer 
would  catch  me  in  his  net;  or  that,  with  green-headed  Igno- 
rance, I  would  presume  to  go  on  to  the  gate,  from  whence 
he  always  was  sent  back  to  the  hole  that  was  in  the  side  of 
the  hill,  and  made  to  go  the  byway  to  hell. 

GREAT-HEART.  I  promise  you  this  was  enough  to  discour- 
age. But  did  they  make  an  end  here  ? 

VALIANT.  No;  stay.  They  told  me  also  of  many  that 
had  tried  that  way  of  old,  and  that  had  gone  a  great  way 
The  fourth  therein,  to  see  if  they  could  find  something  of 

the  glory  there,  that  so  many  had  so  much 
talked  of  from  time  to  time;  and  how  they  came  back  again, 
and  befooled  themselves  for  setting  a  foot  out-of-doors  in 
that  path,  to  the  satisfaction  of  all  the  country.  And  they 
named  several  that  did  so,  as,  Obstinate  and  Pliable,  Mis- 
trust and  Timorous,  Turn-away  and  old  Atheist,  with  several 
more,  who,  they  said,  had,  some  of  them,  gone  far  to  see  if 
they  could  find,  but  not  one  of  them  found  so  much  advan- 
tage by  going,  as  amounted  to  the  weight  of  a  feather. 

GREAT-HEART.  Said  they  anything  more  to  discourage 
you? 

VALIANT.  Yes,  they  told  me  of  one  Mr.  Fearing,  who  was 
a  pilgrim,  and  how  he  found  this  way  so  solitary  that  he 
never  had  comfortable  hour  therein;  also  that 
Mr.  Despondency  had  like  to  have  been  starved 
therein;  yea,  and  also  which  I  had  almost  forgot,  that  Chris- 
tian himself,  about  whom  there  has  been  such  a  noise,  after 
all  his  ventures  for  a  celestial  crown,  was  certainly  drowned 
in  the  Black  River,  and  never  went  foot  farther,  however  it 
was  smothered  up. 

GREAT-HEART.  And  did  none  of  these  things  discourage 
you  ? 

VALIANT.  No;  they  seemed  but  as  so  many  nothings  to 
me. 

GREAT-HEART.     How  came  that  about? 


310  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

VALIANT.  Why,  I  still  believed  what  Mr.  Tell-true  had 
said;  and  that  carried  me  beyond  them  all. 

How  he  got  over 

these  stumbling-  GREAT-HEART.       Then   this   Was  your  victory, 

blocks.  .    .   , 

even  your  faith. 

VALIANT.  It  was  so.  I  believed,  and  therefore  came  out, 
got  into  the  way,  fought  all  that  set  themselves  against  me, 
and  by  believing  am  come  to  this  place. 

Who  would  true  valor  see, 

Let  him  come  hither; 
One  here  will  constant  be, 

Come  wind,  come  weather. 
There's  no  discouragement 
Shall  make  him  once  relent, 
His  first  avow'd  intent 
To  be  a  pilgrim. 

Whoso  beset  him  round 

With  dismal  stories, 
Do  but  themselves  confound, — 

His  strength  the  more  is. 
No  lion  can  him  fright, 
He'll  with  a  giant  fight, 
But  he  will  have  a  right 
To  be  a  pilgrim. 

Hobgoblin  nor  foul  fiend 

Can  daunt  his  spirit; 
He  knows  he  at  the  end 

Shall  life  inherit. 
Then  fancies  fly  away; 
He'll  fear  not  what  men  say; 
He'll  labor  night  and  day 
To  be  a  pilgrim. 

By  this  time  they  were  got  to  the  Enchanted  Ground, 
where  the  air  naturally  tended  to  make  one 

page  168.  drowsy.  And  that  place  was  all  grown  over  with 

briers  and  thorns,  excepting  here  and  there, 

where  was  an  enchanted  arbor,  upon  which  if  a  man  sits,  or 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  311 

in  which  if  a  man  sleeps,  'tis  a  question,  say  some,  whether 
ever  they  shall  rise  or  wake  again  in  this  world.  Over  this 
forest,  therefore,  they  went,  both  one  with  another,  and  Mr. 
Great-heart  went  before,  for  that  he  was  the  guide;  and  Mr. 
Valiant-for-truth,  he  came  behind,  being  there  a  guard,  for 
fear  test  perad venture  some  fiend,  or  dragon,  or  giant,  or 
thief,  should  fall  upon  their  rear,  and  so  do  mischief.  They 
went  on  here  each  man  with  his  sword  drawn  in  his  hand,  for 
they  knew  it  was  a  dangerous  place.  Also  they  cheered  up 
one  another  as  well  as  they  could:  Feeble- mind,  Mr.  Great- 
heart  commanded  should  come  up  after  him;  and  Mr.  De- 
spondency was  under  the  eye  of  Mr.  Valiant. 

Now  they  had  not  gone  far,  but  a  great  mist  and  a  darkness 
fell  upon  them  all;  so  that  they  could  scarce,  for  a  great  while, 
see  the  one  the  other.  Wherefore  they  were  forced,  for  some 
time,  to  feel  for  one  another  by  words;  for  they  walked  not 
by  sight. 

But  any  one  must  think  that  here  was  but  sorry  going  for 
the  best  of  them  all,  but  how  much  worse  for  the  women  and 
children,  who  both  of  feet  and  heart  were  but  tender.  Yet 
so  it  was,  that  through  the  encouraging  words  of  him  that 
led  in  the  front,  and  of  him  that  brought  them  up  behind, 
they  made  a  pretty  good  shift  to  wag  along. 

The  way  also  was  here  very  wearisome,  through  dirt  and 
slabbiness.  Nor  was  there  on  all  this  ground  so  much  as  one 
inn  or  victualling  house,  therein  to  refresh  the  feebler  sort. 
Here,  therefore,  was  grunting,  and  puffing,  and  sighing. 
While  one  tumbleth  over  a  bush,  another  sticks  fast  in 
the  dirt;  and  the  children,  some  of  them,  lost  their  shoes 
in  the  mire.  While  one  cries  out,  I  am  down;  and  an- 
other, Ho,  where  are  you?  and  a  third,  The  bushes  have 
got  such  fast  hold  on  me,  I  think  I  cannot  get  away  from 
them. 

Then  they  come  at  an  arbor,  warm,  and  promising  much 
refreshing  to  the  pilgrims;  for  it  was  finely  wrought  above- 


312  THE   PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

head,  beautified  with   greens,   furnished  with  benches  and 
settles.     It  also  had  in  it  a  soft  couch,  whereon 

An  arbor  on  the 

Enchanting  the  weary  might  lean.     This,  you  must  think, 

Ground.  n       i  •  •  i          i 

all  things  considered,  was  tempting,  for  the 
pilgrims  already  began  to  be  foiled  with  the  badness  of  the 
way;  but  there  was  not  one  of  them  that  made  so  much  as  a 
motion  to  stop  there.  Yea,  for  aught  I  could  perceive,  they 
continually  gave  so  good  heed  to  the  advice  of  their  guide, 
and  he  did  so  faithfully  tell  them  of  dangers,  and  of  the  nature 
of  dangers  when  they  were  at  them,  that  usually,  when  they 

were  nearest  to  them,  they  did  most  pluck  up 
thewbor*  their  spirits,  and  hearten  one  another  to  deny 

the  flesh.  This  arbor  was  called  the  Slothful's 
Friend,  on  purpose  to  allure,  if  it  might  be,  some  of  the  pil- 
grims there  to  take  up  their  rest  when  weary. 

I  saw  then  in  my  dream,  that  they  went  on  in  this  their 
solitary  ground,  till  they  came  to  a  place  at  which  a  man  is 
The  wa  apt  to  lose  his  way.  Now,  though  when  it  was 

difficult  to  find.      light,  their  guide  could  well  enough  tell  how  to 
The  guide  has  a     miss  those  ways  that  led  wrong,  yet  in  the  dark 

map  of  all  ways      ,  ,     ,      ,   ,       ,       ,  .      ,  . 

leading  to  or  he  was  put  to  a  stand;  but  he  had  in  his  pocket 
a  map  of  all  ways  leading  to  or  from  the  Celes- 
tial City;  wherefore  he  struck  a  light  (for  he  never  goes  also 
without  his  tinder-box)  and  takes  a  view  of  his  book  or  map, 
which  bids  him  be  careful,  in  that  place,  to  turn  to  the  right- 
hand  way.  And  had  he  not  here  been  careful  to  look  in  his 
map,  they  had  all,  in  probability,  been  smothered  in  the 
mud;  for  just  a  little  before  them,  and  that  at  the  end  of  the 
cleanest  way  too,  was  a  pit,  none  knows  how  deep,  full  of 
nothing  but  mud,  there  made  on  purpose  to  destroy  the 
pilgrims  in. 

Then  thought  I  with  myself,  Who  that  goeth  on  pilgrimage 
but  would  have  one  of  these  maps  about  him, 

God  s  Book. 

that  he  may  look  when  he  is  at  a  stand,  which 
is  the  way  he  must  take? 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  313 

They  went  on  then  in  this  Enchanted  Ground  till  they 

came  to  where  was  another  arbor,  and  it  was  built  by  the 

highway  side.     And  in  that  arbor  there  lay  two 

An  arbor,  and  " 

two  asleep  men,  whose  names  were  Heedless  and  loo-bold. 

These  two  went  thus  far  on  pilgrimage;  but 
here,  being  wearied  with  their  journey,  they  sat  down  to  rest 
themselves,  and  so  fell  fast  asleep.  When  the  pilgrims  saw 
them,  they  stood  still  and  shook  their  heads,  for  they  knew 
that  the  sleepers  were  in  a  pitiful  case.  Then  they  consulted 
what  to  do,  whether  to  go  on  and  leave  them  in  their  sleep, 
or  to  step  to  them  and  try  to  awake  them.  So  they  con- 
cluded to  go  to  them  and  wake  them, — that  is,  if  they  could; 
but  with  this  caution,  namely,  to  take  heed  that  themselves 
did  not  sit  down  nor  embrace  the  offered  benefit  of  that 
arbor. 

So  they  went  in  and  spake  to  the  men,  and  called  each  by 

his  name  (for  the  guide,  it  seems,  did  know  them) ;  but  there 

was  no  voice  nor  answer.  •  Then  the  guide  did 

lhwakegthTm.try      shake   them>   and   d°  what  he  COuld   to   disturb 

them.  Then  said  one  of  them,  I  will  pay  you 
when  I  take  my  money.  At  which  the  guide  shook  his  head. 
I  will  fight  so  long  as  I  can  hold  my  sword  in  my  hand,  said 
the  other.  At  that  one  of  the  children  laughed. 

Then  said  Christiana,  What  is  the  meaning  of  this  ?     The 
guide  said,  They  talk  in  their  sleep.     If  you  strike  them,  beat 

them,  or  whatever  else  you  do  to  them,  they 
lhffuieaedsTVOT  wil1  answer  you  after  this  fashion;  or  as  one  of 

them  said  in  old  time,  when  the  waves  of  the 
sea  did  beat  upon  him,  and  he  slept  as  one  upon  the  mast  of 

a  ship,  "When  I  awake,  I  will  seek  it  again." 
M^Ssf**"'  ^ou  know,  when  men  talk  in  their  sleep,  they 

say  anything;  but  their  words  are  not  governed 
either  by  faith  or  reason.  There  is  an  incoherency  in  their 
words  now,  as  there  was  before,  betwixt  their  going  on  pil- 
grimage, and  sitting  down  here.  This,  then,  is  the  mischief 


314  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

on't,  when  heedless  ones  go  on  pilgrimage,  'tis  twenty  to  one 
but  they  are  served  thus.  For  this  Enchanted  Ground  is 
one  of  the  last  refuges  that  the  enemy  to  pilgrims  has;  where- 
fore it  is,  as  you  see,  placed  almost  at  the  end  of  the  way,  and 
so  it  standeth  against  us  with  the  more  advantage.  For 
when,  thinks  the  enemy,  will  these  fools  be  s/)  desirous  to  sit 
down  as  when  they  are  weary  ?  and  when  so  like  to  be  weary 
as  when  almost  at  their  journey's  end  ?  Therefore  it  is,  I 
say,  that  the  Enchanted  Ground  is  placed  so  nigh  to  the 
land  of  Beulah,  and  so  near  the  end  of  their  race.  Wherefore 
let  pilgrims  look  to  themselves,  lest  it  happen  to  them  as  it 
has  done  to  these,  that,  as  you  see,  are  fallen  asleep,  and 
none  can  wake  them. 

Then  the  pilgrims  desired  with  trembling  to  go  forward, 

only  they  prayed  their  guide  to  strike  a  light, 
theeword  that  they  might  go  the  rest  of  their  way  by  the 

2  Pet.  i.  19.          ne^P  °f  ^ne  %ht  of  a  lantern.     So  he  struck  a 

light,  c,nd  they  went  by  the  help  of  that  through 
the  rest  of  this  way,  though  the  darkness  was  very  great. 
But  the  children  began  to  be  sorely  weary,  and  they  cried 

out  unto  Him  that  loveth  pilgrims  to  make 
j»m%w?*    their  way  more  comfortable.     So  by  that  they 

had  gone  a  little  farther,  a  wind  arose,  that 
drove  away  the  fog;  so  the  air  became  more  clear. 

Yet  they  were  not  off  (by  much)  of  the  Enchanted  Ground; 
only  now  they  could  see  one  another  better,  and  the  way 
wherein  they  should  walk. 

Now  when  they  were  almost  at  the  end  of  this  ground, 
they  perceived  that,  a  little  before  them,  was  a  solemn  noise, 
as  of  one  that  was  much  concerned.  So  they  went  on  and 

looked  before  them;  and,  behold,  they  saw,  as 
s  in'the     they  thought,  a  man  upon  his  knees,  with  hands 

Enchanted  an(J  eyes  ]ift  up>  and  speaking>  ag  tney  thought, 

earnestly  to  one  that  was  above.     They  drew 
nigh,    but    could    not    tell    what    he    said;    so    they    went 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  315 

softly  till  he  had  done.  When  he  had  done,  he  got  up  and 
began  to  run  towards  the  Celestial  City.  Then  Mr.  Great- 
heart  called  after  him,  saying,  So-ho!  friend,  let  us  have 
your  company,  if  you  go,  as  I  suppose  you  do,  to  the  Celestial 
City.  So  the  man  stopped,  and  they  came  up  to  him.  But 
so  soon  as  Mr.  Honest  saw  him,  he  said,  I  know 
this  man'  Then  said  Mr'  Valiant-for-truth, 
Prithee,  who  is  it?  'Tis  one,  said  he,  that 
comes  from  whereabouts  I  dwelt.  His  name  is  Stand-fast: 
he  is  certainly  a  right  good  pilgrim. 

So  they  came  up  one  to  another;  and  presently  Stand- fast 

said  to  old  Honest,  Ho,  Father  Honest,  are  you  there?     Ay, 

said  he,  that  I  am,  as  sure  as  you  are  there. 

£?j£!lfa±  Right  §lad  am  L  said  Mr-  Stand-fast,  that  I 
have  found  you  on  this  road.  And  as  glad  am 
I,  said  the  other,  that  I  espied  you  upon  your  knees.  Then 
Mr.  Stand-fast  blushed,  and  said,  But  why,  did  you  see  me? 
Yes,  that  I  did,  quoth  the  other,  and  with  my  heart  was 
glad  at  the  sight.  Why,  what  did  you  think?  said  Stand- 
fast. Think!  said  old  Honest;  what  should  I  think.  I 
thought  we  had  an  honest  man  upon  the  road,  and  therefore 
should  have  his  company  by  and  by.  If  you  thought  not 
amiss,  how  happy  am  I !  But  if  I  be  not  as  I  should,  I  alone 
must  bear  it.  That  is  true,  said  the  other;  but  your  fear 
doth  further  confirm  me  that  things  are  right  betwixt  the 
Prince  of  pilgrims  and  your  soul;  for  he  saith,  "Blessed  is  the 
man  that  feareth  always." 

VALIANT.     Well,  but  brother,  I  pray  thee, 

tel1  us  what  was   'li  that  was   the  cause  of  thv 

being  upon  thy  knees  even  now?     Was  it  for 
that  some  special  mercy  laid  obligations  upon  thee,  or  how  ? 
STAND-FAST.     Why,  we  are,  as  you  see,  upon 

What  it  was  that  *  * 

fetched  him  upon    the   Enchanted  Ground;  and  as  I  was  coming 

along,  I  was  musing  with  myself  of  what  a 

dangerous    road    the    road    in    this    place    was,    and    how 


316  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

many  that  had  come  even  thus  far  on  pilgrimage  had  here 
been  stopped,  and  been  destroyed.  I  thought  also  of  the 
manner  of  the  death  here  with  which  this  place  destroyeth 
men.  Those  that  die  here  die  of  no  violent  distemper.  The 
death  which  such  die  is  not  grievous  to  them;  for  he  that 
goeth  away  in  a  sleep  begins  that  journey  with  desire  and 
pleasure;  yea,  such  acquiesce  in  the  will  of  that  disease. 

HON.  Then  Mr.  Honest,  interrupting  of  him,  said,  Did 
you  see  the  two  men  asleep  in  the  arbor  ? 

STAND-FAST.     Ay,  ay,  I  saw  Heedless  and  Too-bold  there, 
and  for  aught  I  know,  there  they  will  lie  till  they  rot.     But 
let  me  go  on  in  my  tale.     As  I  was  thus  mus- 
ing, as  I  said,  there  was  one  in  very  pleasant 
attire,  but  old,  that  presented  herself  unto  me,  and  offered 
me  three  things,  to  wit,  her  body,  her  purse,  and  her  bed. 
Now  the  truth  is,  I  was  both  a- weary  and  sleepy;  I  am  also 
as  poor  as  an  owlet,  and  that,  perhaps,  the  witch  knew. 
Well,  I  repulsed  her  once  and  twice,  but  she  put  by  my 
repulses,  and  smiled.     Then  I  began  to  be  angry,  but  she 
mattered  that  nothing  at  all.     Then  she  made  offers  again, 
and  said,  If  I  would  be  ruled  by  her,  she  would  make  me 
great  and  happy;  for,  said  she,  I  am  the  mistress  of  the  world, 
and  men  are  made  happy  by  me.     Then  I  asked  her  name, 
and  she  told  me  it  was  Madam  Bubble.     This 

Madam  Bubble, 

or  this  vain  set  me  further  from  her;  but  she  still  followed 

me  with  enticements.  Then  I  betook  me,  as 
you  see,  to  my  knees,  and  with  hands  lift  up  and  cries,  I 
prayed  to  Him  that  had  said  he  would  help.  So,  just  as  you 
came  up,  the  gentlewoman  went  her  way.  Then  I  continued 
to  give  thanks  for  this  my  great  deliverance;  for  I  verily  be- 
lieve she  intended  no  good,  but  rather  sought  to  make  stop 
of  me  in  my  journey. 

HON.  Without  doubt  her  designs  were  bad.  But  stay, 
now  you  talk  of  her,  methinks  I  either  have  seen  her,  or  have 
read  some  story  of  her. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  317 

STAND-FAST.     Perhaps  you  have  done  both. 

HON.  Madam  Bubble!  is  she  not  a  tall,  comely  dame, 
something  of  a  swarthy  complexion  ? 

STAND-FAST.     Right,  you  hit  it;  she  is  just  such  an  one. 

HON.  Doth  she  not  speak  very  smoothly,  and  give  you  a 
smile  at  the  end  of  a  sentence? 

STAND-FAST.  You  fall  right  upon  it  again,  for  these  are 
her  very  actions. 

HON.  Doth  she  not  wear  a  great  purse  by  her  side,  and 
is  not  her  hand  often  in  it,  fingering  her  money,  as  if  that 
was  her  heart's  delight? 

STAND-FAST.  'Tis  just  so;  had  she  stood  by  all  this  while, 
you  could  not  more  amply  have  set  her  forth  before  me,  nor 
have  better  described  her  features. 

HON.  Then  he  that  drew  her  picture  was  a  good  limner, 
and  he  that  wrote  of  her  said  true. 

GREAT-HEART.  This  woman  is  a  witch,  and  it  is  by  virtue 
of  her  sorceries  that  this  ground  is  enchanted.  Whoever 
r,  ,,  doth  lay  their  head  down  in  her  lap,  had  as 

1  he  world. 

good  lay  it  down  upon  that  block  over  which 

James  it;.  4.  J 

the  axe  doth  hang;  and  whoever  lay  their  eyes 
upon  her  beauty,  are  counted  the  enemies  of 
God.  This  is  she  that  maintaineth  in  their  splendor  all 
those  that  are  the  enemies  of  pilgrims;  yea,  this  is  she  that 
has  bought  off  many  a  man  from  a  pilgrim's  life.  She  is  a 
great  gossiper;  she  is  always,  both  she  and  her  daughters,  at 
one  pilgrim's  heels  or  other,  now  commending,  and  then  pre- 
ferring the  excellencies  of  this  life.  She  is  a  bold  and  impu- 
dent slut;  she  will  talk  with  any  man.  She  always  laugheth 
poor  pilgrims  to  scorn,  but  highly  commends  the  rich.  If 
there  be  one  cunning  to  get  money  in  a  place,  she  will  speak 
well  of  him  from  house  to  house.  She  loveth  banqueting  and 
feasting  mainly  well;  she  is  always  at  one  full  table  or  an- 
other. She  has  given  it  out  in  some  places  that  she  is  a  god- 
dess, and  therefore  some  do  worship  her.  She  has  her  times 


318  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

and  open  places  of  cheating;  and  she  will  say  and  avow  it, 
that  none  can  show  a  good  comparable  to  hers.  She  prom- 
iseth  to  dwell  with  children's  children,  if  they  will  but  love 
and  make  much  of  her.  She  will  cast  out  of  her  purse  gold 
like  dust,  in  some  places,  and  to  some  persons.  She  loves 
to  be  sought  after,  spoken  well  of,  and  to  lie  in  the  bosoms  of 
men.  She  is  never  weary  of  commending  her  commodities, 
and  she  loves  them  most  that  think  best  of  her.  She  will 
promise  to  some  crowns  and  kingdoms  if  they  will  but  take 
her  advice,  yet  many  has  she  brought  to  the  halter,  and  ten 
thousand  times  more  to  hell. 

STAND-FAST.  Oh!  said  Stand-fast,  what  a  mercy  is  it  that 
I  did  resist  her;  for  whither  might  she  have  drawn  me? 

GREAT-HEART.  Whither!  nay,  none  but  God  knows 
whither.  But  in  general,  to  be  sure,  she  would 

1  Tim.  m.  9. 

have  drawn  thee  into  many  foolish  and  hurt- 
ful lusts,  which  drown  men  in  destruction  and  perdition." 

'Twas  she  that  set  Absalom  against  his  father,  and  Jero- 
boam against  his  master.  'Twas  she  that  persuaded  Judas 
to  sell  his  Lord;  and  that  prevailed  with  Demas  to  forsake 
the  godly  pilgrim's  life.  None  can  tell  of  the  mischief  that 
she  doth.  She  makes  variance  betwixt  rulers  and  subjects, 
betwixt  parents  and  children,  betwixt  neighbor  and  neighbor, 
betwixt  a  man  and  his  wife,  betwixt  a  man  and  himself,  be- 
twixt the  flesh  and  the  heart. 

Wherefore,  good  master  Stand-fast,  be  as  your  name  is,  and 
when  you  have  done  all,  stand. 

At  this  discourse  there  was  among  the  pilgrims  a  mixture 
of  joy  and  trembling,  but  at  length  they  brake  out,  and  sang — 

What  danger  is  the  pilgrim  in ! 

How  many  are  his  foes ! 
How  many  ways  there  are  to  sin 

No  living  mortal  knows. 
Some  of  the  ditch  shy  are,  yet  can 

Lie  tumbling  on  the  mire: 
Some,  though  they  shun  the  frying-pan, 

Do  leap  into  the  fire. 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  319 

After  this  I  beheld,  until  they  were  come  unto  the  land  of 
Beulah,  where  the  sun  shineth  night  and  day.  Here,  because 

they  were  weary,  they  betook  themselves  a 
polJi?  191  while  to  rest.  And  because  this  country  was 

common  for  pilgrims,  and  because  the  orchards 
and  vineyards  that  were  here  belonged  to  the  King  of  the 
Celestial  Country,  therefore  they  were  licensed  to  make  bold 
with  any  of  his  things.  But  a  little  while  soon  refreshed  them 
here;  for  the  bells  did  so  ring,  and  the  trumpets  continually 
sound  so  melodiously,  that  they  could  not  sleep;  and  yet 
they  received  as  much  refreshing  as  if  they  had  slept  their 
sleep  never  so  soundly.  Here  also  all  the  noise  of  them  that 
walked  the  streets  was,  More  pilgrims  are  come  to  town. 
And  another  would  answer,  saying,  And  so  many  went  over 
the  water,  and  were  let  in  at  the  golden  gates  to-day.  They 
would  cry  again,  There  is  now  a  legion  of  Shining  Ones  just 
come  to  town,  by  which  we  know  that  there  are  more  pilgrims 
upon  the  road,  for  here  they  come  to  wait  for  them,  and  to 
comfort  them  after  all  their  sorrow.  Then  the  pilgrims  got 
up  and  walked  to  and  fro;  but  how  were  their  ears  now  filled 
with  heavenly  noises,  and  their  eyes  delighted  with  celestial 
visions!  In  this  land  they  heard  nothing,  saw  nothing,  felt 
nothing,  smelt  nothing,  tasted  nothing,  that  was  offensive  to 

their  stomach  or  mind:  only  when  they  tasted 

Death  bitter  to  •«'.'•  , 

the  flesh,  but         or  the  water  of  the  river,  over  which  they  were 
to  go,  they  thought  that  tasted  a  little  bitterish 
to  the  palate,  but  it  proved  sweeter  when  it  was  down. 

In  this  place  there  was  a  record  kept  of  the  names  of  them 
that  had  been  pilgrims  of  old,  and  a  history  of  all  the  famous 
acts  that  they  had  done.     It  was  here  also  much 
nd3        discoursed  how  the  river  to  some  had  had  its 
^tide™*         flowings,  and   what  ebbings  it  has   had   while 
others  have  gone  over.     It  has  been  in  a  man- 
ner dry  for  some,  while  it  has  overflowed  its  banks  for  others. 
In  this  place,  the  children  of  the  town  would  go  into  the 
King's  gardens  and  gather  nosegays  for  the  pilgrims,  and 


320  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

bring  them  to  them  with  much  affection.  Here  also  grew 
camphire  with  spikenard,  and  saffron,  calamus,  and  cinna- 
mon, with  all  its  trees  of  frankincense,  myrrh,  and  aloes,  with 
all  chief  spices.  With  these  the  pilgrims'  chambers  were  per- 
fumed, while  they  stayed  here;  and  with  these  were  their 
bodies  anointed,  to  prepare  them  to  go  over  the  river  when 
the  time  appointed  was  come. 

Now,  while  they  lay  here,  and  waited  for  the  good  hour, 
there  was  a  noise  in  the  town  that  there  was  a  post  come  from 
the  Celestial  City,  with  matter  of  great  importance,  to  one 
A  messen  er  of  Christiana,  the  wife  of  Christian  the  pilgrim. 
Death  sent  to  go  inquiry  was  made  for  her,  and  the  house  was 

Christiana. 

found  out  where  she  was.     So  the  post  pre- 

sented her  with  a  letter,  the  contents  whereof 

was,  Hail,  good  woman,  I  bring  thee  tidings  that  the  Master 

calleth  for  thee,  and  expecteth  that  thou  shouldest  stand  in 

his  presence  in  clothes  of  immortality,  within  this  ten  days. 

When  he  had  read  this  letter  to  her,  he  gave  her  therewith 

a  sure  token  that  he  was  a  true  messenger,  and 

How  welcome  is  1*11  i        i  i 

death  to  them        was  come  to  bid  her  make  haste  to  be  gone. 


toadohbut  ^die9    The  token  was>  an  arrow  with  a  P°int  sharpened 
with  love,  let  easily  into  her  heart,  which  by  de- 

grees wrought  so  effectually  with  her,  that  at  the  time  ap- 

pointed she  must  be  gone.  , 

When  Christiana  saw  that  her  time  was  come,  and  that  she 

was  the  first  of  this  company  that  was  to  go  over,  she  called 
for  Mr.  Great-heart,  her  guide,  and  told  him 

heerrg9uideht°        how   matters   were.     So   he   told   her   he   was 
heartily  glad  of  the  news,  and  could  have  been 

glad  had  the  post  come  for  him.     Then  she  bid  that  he  should 

give  advice  how  all  things  should  be  prepared  for  her  journey. 

So  he  told  her,  saying,  Thus  and  thus  it  must  be,  and  we  that 

survive  will  accompany  you  to  the  river-side. 

Then  she  called  for  her  children,  and  gave  them  her  bless- 

ing, and  told  them  that  she  yet  read  with  comfort,  the  mark 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  321 

that  was  set  in  their  foreheads,  and  was  glad  to  see  them  with 
her  there,  and  that  they  had  kept  their  garments 

To  her  children.  r 

so  white.  Lastly,  she  bequeathed  to  the  poor 
that  little  she  had,  and  commanded  her  sons  and  her  daugh- 
ters to  be  ready  against  the  messenger  should  come  for  them. 
When  she  had  spoken  these  words  to  her  guide  and  to  her 

children,  she  called  for  Mr.  Valiant-for-truth, 

To  Mr.  Valiant. 

and  said  unto  him,  Sir,  you  have  in  all  places 
showed  yourself  true-hearted;  be  faithful  unto  death,  and  my 
King  will  give  you  a  crown  of  life.  I  would  also  entreat  you 
to  have  an  eye  to  my  children,  and  if  at  any  time  you  see 

them  faint,  speak  comfortably  to  them.  For 
Stand-fast.  mv  daughters,  my  sons'  wives,  they  have  been 

faithful,  and  a  fulfilling  of  the  promise  upon 
them  will  be  their  end.  But  she  gave  Mr.  Stand-fast  a  ring. 
Then  she  called  for  old  Mr.  Honest,  and  said  of  him,  Be- 
hold an  Israelite  indeed,  in  whom  is  no  guile.  Then  said  he, 

I  wish  you  a  fair  day  when  .you  set  out  for 

10  old  Honest. 

Mount  Zion,  and  shall  be  glad  to  see  that  you 
go  over  the  river  dry-shod.  But  she  answered,  Come  wet, 
come  dry,  I  long  to  be  gone;  for  however  the  weather  is  in 
my  journey,  I  shall  have  time  enough  when  I  come  there  to 
sit  down  and  rest  me,  and  dry  me. 

Then  came  in  that  good  man,  Mr.  Ready-to-halt,  to  see 

her.  So  she  said  to  him,  Thy  travel  hither  has 
'lUady-to-halt.  ^een  witn  difficulty,  but  that  will  make  thy  rest 

the  sweeter.  But  watch  and  be  ready,  for  at 
an  hour  when  you  think  not,  the  messenger  may  come. 

After  him  came  in  Mr.  Despondency,  and  his  daughter 
Much-afraid,  to  whom  she  said,  You  ought  with  thankfulness, 

forever  to  remember  your  deliverance  from  the 
IniSZ^r.  hands  of  Giant  Despair,  and  out  of  Doubting 

Castle.  The  effect  of  that  mercy  is,  that  you 
are  brought  with  safety  hither.  Be  ye  watchful,  and  cast 
away  fear;  be  sober,  and  hope  to  the  end. 


322  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

Then  she  said  to  Mr.  Feeble-mind,  Thou  wast  delivered 

from  the  mouth  of  Giant  Slay-good,  that  thou  mightest  live 

in  the  light  of  the  living  forever,  and  see  thy 

To  Feeble-mind.  .  °  . 

King  with  comfort.  Only  I  advise  thee  to  re- 
pent thee  of  thy  aptness  to  fear  and  doubt  of  his  goodness 
before  he  sends  for  thee;  lest  thou  shouldest,  when  he  comes, 
be  forced  to  stand  before  him  for  that  fault  with  blushing. 

Now  the  day  drew  on  that  Christiana  must  be  gone.     So 

the  road  was  full  of  people  to  see  her  take  her  journey.     But 

.    behold  all  the  banks  bevond  the  river  were  full 

Her  last  day  and  . 

manner  of  of  horses  and  chariots,  wrhich  were  come  down 

departure. 

from  above  to  accompany  her  to  the  city  gate. 
So  she  came  forth  and  entered  the  river,  with  a  beckon  of 
farewell  to  those  that  followed  her  to  the  river-side.  The  last 
word  she  was  heard  to  say  here  was,  I  come,  Lord,  to  be  with 
thee,  and  bless  thee. 

So  her  children  and  friends  returned  to  their  place,  for  that 
those  that  waited  for  Christiana  had  carried  her  out  of  their 
sight.  So  she  went  and  called,  and  entered  in  at  the  gate 
with  all  the  ceremonies  of  joy  that  her  husband  Christian  had 
done  before  her. 

At  her  departure  her  children  wept,  but  Mr.  Great-heart 
and  Mr.  Valiant  played  upon  the  well- tuned  cymbal  and  harp 
for  joy.  So  all  departed  to  their  respective  places. 

In  process  of  time  there  came  a  post  to  the  town  again, 

and  his  business  was  with  Mr.  Ready-to-halt.     So  he  inquired 

him  out,  and  said  to  him,  I  am  come  to  thee  in 

^mmon'ed^  the  name  of  Him   whom   thou   hast  loved   and 

followed,  though  upon  crutches;  and  my  mes- 
sage is  to  tell  thee  that  he  expects  thee  at  his  table  to  sup 
with  him  in  his  kingdom,  the  next  day  after  Easter;  wherefore 
prepare  thyself  for  this  journey. 

Then  he  also  gave  him  a  token  that  he  was 

Eccles.  xn.  6.  . 

a  true  messenger,  saying,  I  have  broken  thy 

golden  bowl,  and  loosed  thy  silver  cord. 

After  this  Mr.  Ready-to-halt  called  for  his  fellow  pilgrims, 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  323 

and  told  them,  saying,  I  am  sent  for,  and  God  shall  surely 

visit  you  also.     So  he  desired  Mr.  Valiant  to  make  his  will. 

And  because  he  had  nothing  to  bequeath  to 

Promises.  .  ,  . 

them  that  should  survive  him  but  his  crutches, 
and  his  good  wishes,   therefore  thus  he  said: 
These  crutches  I  bequeath  to  my  son  that  shall  tread  in  my 
steps,  with  an  hundred  warm  wishes  that  he  may  prove  bet- 
ter than  I  have  done. 

Then  he  thanked  Mr.  Great- heart  for  his  conduct  and  kind- 
ness, and  so  addressed  himself  to  his  journey.     When  he  came 
at  the  brink  of  the  river,  he  said,  Now  I  shall 

His  last  words. 

have  no  more  need  of  these  crutches,  since  yon- 
der are  chariots  and  horses  for  me  to  ride  on.  The  last  words 
he  was  heard  to  say  were  Welcome  life!  So  he  went  his 
way. 

After  this  Mr.  Feeble-mind  had  tidings  brought  him,  that 
the  post  sounded  his  horn  at  his  chamber  door.     Then  he 

came  in  and  told  him,  saying,  I  am  come  to  tell 
summoned.  thee  that  thy  Master  has  need  of  thee,  and  that 

Eccles.  xii  3         m  verv  little  time  thou  must  behold  his  face  in 

brightness.  And  take  this  as  a  token  of  the 
truth  of  my  message:  Those  that  look  out  at  the  windows 
shall  be  darkened. 

Then  Mr.  Feeble-mind  called  for  his  friends,  and  told  them 
what  errand  had  been  brought  unto  him,  and  what  token  he 

had  received  of  the  truth  of  the  message.  Then 
uiUmakes  no  he  said,  Since  I  have  nothing  to  bequeath  to 

any,  to  what  purpose  should  I  make  a  will  ? 
As  for  my  feeble  mind,  that  I  will  leave  behind  me;  for  that  I 
have  no  need  of  that  in  the  place  whither  I  go;  nor  is  it  worth 
bestowing  upon  the  poorest  pilgrim;  Wherefore,  when  I  am 
gone,  I  desire  that  you,  Mr.  Valiant,  would  bury  it  in  a 

dunghill.     This  done,  and  the  day  being  come 

His  last  words.  °  .  . 

in  which  he  was  to  depart,  he  entered  the  river 
as  the  rest.  His  last  words  were,  Hold  out,  faith  and  pa- 
tience. So  he  went  over  to  the  other  side. 


324  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

When  days  had  many  of  them  passed  away,  Mr.  Despon- 
dency  was  sent  for.     For  a  post  was  come,  and 
Despondency's       brought  this  message  to  him:  Trembling  man, 
these  are  to  summon  thee  to  be  ready  with  thy 
King  by  the  next  Lord's  day,  to  shout  for  joy  for  thy  deliver- 
ance from  all  thy  doubtings. 

And,  said  the  messenger,  that  my  message  is  true,  take 

this  for  a  proof:  so  he  gave  him,  "The  Grasshopper  to  be  a 

burden  unto  him."     Now  Mr.  Despondency's 

daughter,  whose  name  was  Much-afraid,  said, 

^daughter  when  ghe  fe^  what  wag  ^^  ^^  ghe  WOUJ(J 

go  with  her  father.  Then  Mr.  Despondency 
said  to  his  friends,  Myself  and  my  daughter,  you  know  what 
we  have  been,  and  how  troublesomely  we  have  behaved  our- 
selves in  every  company.  My  will  and  my  daughter's  is, 

that  our  desponds,  and  slavish  fears,  be  by  no 

His  will.  •        i     <• 

man  ever  received,  trom  the  day  ot  our  depar- 
ture, forever;  for  I  know  that  after  my  death  they  will  offer 
themselves  to  others.  For,  to  be  plain  with  you,  they  are 
ghosts,  the  which  we  entertained  when  we  first  began  to  be 
pilgrims,  and  could  never  shake  them  off  after;  and  they  will 
walk  about  and  seek  entertainment  of  the  pilgrims;  but  for 
our  sakes  shut  ye  the  doors  upon  them. 

When  the  time  was  come  for  them  to  depart,  they  went  to 
the  brink  of  the  river.     The  last  words  of  Mr.  Despondency 

were,     Farewell     night;     welcome     day!     His 

His  last  words.  .       .  , 

daughter  went  through  the  river  singing,  but 
none  could  understand  what  she  said. 

Then  it  came  to  pass,  a  while  after,  that  there  was  a  post 
in  the  town  that  inquired  for  Mr.  Honest.     So  he  came  to 

his  house  where  he  was,  and  delivered  to  his 

Summoned.  hand  these  lines:  Tnou  art  commanded  to  be 

ready  against  this  day  sevennight;  to  present 

thyself  before  thy  Lord  at  his  Father's  house.     And  for  a 

token  that  my  message  is  true,  "All  thy  daughters  of  music 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  325 

shall  be  brought  low."  Then  Mr.  Honest  called  for  his  friends, 
and  said  unto  them,  I  die,  but  shall  make  no 
will.  As  for  my  honesty,  it  shall  go  with  me;  let 


day  that  he  was  to  be  gone  was  come,  he  ad- 

dressed himself  to  go  over  the  river.     Now  the  river  at  that 

time  overflowed  the  banks  in  some  places,  but 

hood-conscience  .          ... 

helps  Mr.  Honest    Mr.  Honest  in  his  lifetime  had  spoken  to  one 

Good-conscience  to  meet  him  there,  the  which 
he  also  did,  and  lent  him  his  hand,  and  so  helped  him  over. 
The  last  words  of  Mr.  Honest  were,  Grace  reigns!  So  he 
left  the  world. 

After  this  it  was  noised  abroad  that  Mr.  Valiant-f  or-  truth 
was  taken  with  a  summons,  by  the  same  post  as  the  other, 

and  had  this  for  a  token  that  the  summons  was 
summoneT  true:  "That  his  pitcher  was  broken  at  the  foun- 
Ecdes  xii  6  tain."  When  he  understood  it,  he  called  for 

his  friends  and  told  them  of  it.  Then  said  he, 
I  am  going  to  my  fathers,  and  though  with  great  difficulty  I 
am  got  hither,  yet  now  I  do  not  repent  me  of  all  the  trouble 
I  have  been  at  to  arrive  where  I  am.  My  sword  I  give  to 

him  that  shall  succeed  me  in  my  pilgrimage, 

His  will.  .          . 

and  my  courage  and  skill  to  him  that  can  get 
it.  My  marks  and  scars  I  carry  with  me,  to  be  a  witness  for 
me  that  I  have  fought  His  battles  who  now  will  be  my  re- 
warder.  When  the  day  that  he  must  go  hence  was  come, 
many  accompanied  him  to  the  river-side,  into  which  as  he 

went  he  said,   "Death,  where  is  thy  sting?" 

His  last  words.  J  * 

And  as  he  went  down  deeper,  he  said,  Grave, 
where  is  thy  victory  ?"  So  he  passed  over,  and  all  the  trum- 
pets sounded  for  him  on  the  other  side. 

Then  there  came  forth  a  summons  for  Mr. 
^summoned!1      Stand-fast  (this  Mr.  Stand-fast  was  he  that  the 

rest  of  the  pilgrims  found  upon  his  knees  in  the 
Enchanted  Ground),  for  the  post  brought  it  him  open  in  his 


326  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

hands.  The  contents  whereof  were,  That  he  must  prepare 
for  a  change  of  life,  for  his  Master  was  not  willing  that  he 
should  be  so  far  from  him  any  longer.  At  this  Mr.  Stand-fast 
was  put  into  a  muse.  Nay,  said  the  messenger,  you  need  not 
doubt  of  the  truth  of  my  message,  for  here  is  a  token  of  the 

truth  thereof,    "Thy   wheel   is   broken   at  the 

cistern."  Then  he  called  to  him  Mr.  Great- 
^Ir^areat-heart.  heart,  who  was  their  guide,  and  said  unto  him, 

Sir,  although  it  was  not  my  hap  to  be  much  in 
your  good  company  in  the  days  of  my  pilgrimage,  yet,  since 
the  time  I  knew  you,  you  have  been  profitable  to  me.  When 

I  came  from  home,  I  left  behind  me  a  wife  and 
him.Speech  t0  five  sma11  children;  let  me  entreat  you  at  your 

return  (for  I  know  that  you  will  go  and  return 
to  your  Master's  house,  in  hopes  that  you  may  yet  be  a  con- 
ductor to  more  of  the  holy  pilgrims)  that  you  send  to  my 

family,  and  let  them  be  acquainted  with  all  that 
to£3£*  hath  and  shall  happen  unto  me.  Tell  them, 

moreover,  of  my  happy  arrival  to  this  place,  and 
of  the  present  late  blessed  condition  that  I  am  in.  Tell  them 
also  of  Christian  and  Christiana  his  wife,  and  how  she  and  her 
children  came  after  her  husband.  Tell  them  also,  of  what  a 
happy  end  she  made,  and  whether  she  is  gone.  I  have  little 
or  nothing  to  send  to  my  family,  except  it  be  prayers  and 
tears  for  them;  of  which  it  will  suffice  if  thou  acquaint  them, 
if  peradventure  they  may  prevail. 

When  Mr.  Stand-fast  had  thus  set  things  in  order,  and  the 
time  being  come  for  him  to  haste  him  away,  he  also  went 
down  to  the  river.  Now  there  was  a  great  calm  at  that  time 
in  the  river;  wherefore  Mr.  Stand-fast,  when  he  was  about 
half-way  in,  he  stood  a  while,  and  talked  to  his  companions 
that  had  waited  upon  him  thither.  And  he  said: 

This  river  has  been  a  terror  to  many;  yea,  the  thoughts  of 
it  also  have  often  frighted  me.  But  now  methinks  I  stand 
easy ;  my  foot  is  fixed  upon  that  upon  which  the  feet  of  the 


THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS  327 

priests  that  bare  the  ark  of  the  covenant  stood,  while  Israel 
went  over  this  Jordan.    The  waters,  indeed,  are 

His  last  words. 

to  the  palate  bitter,  and  to  the  stomach  cold; 
yet  the  thoughts  of  what  I  am  going  to,  and  of 
the  conduct  that  waits  for  me  on  the  other  side,  doth  lie 
as  a  glowing  coal  at  my  heart. 

I  see  myself  now  at  the  end  of  my  journey,  my  toilsome 
days  are  ended.  I  am  going  now  to  see  that  head  that  was 
crowned  with  thorns,  and  that  face  that  was  spit  upon,  for  me. 

I  have  formerly  lived  by  hearsay,  and  faith,  but  now  I  go 
where  I  shall  live  by  sight,  and  shall  be  with  Him  in  whose 
company  I  delight  myself. 

I  have  loved  to  hear  my  Lord  spoken  of,  and  wherever  I 
have  seen  the  print  of  his  shoe  in  the  earth,  there  I  have 
coveted  to  set  my  foot  too. 

His  name  has  been  to  me  as  a  civet  box;  yea,  sweeter  than 
all  perfumes.  His  voice  to  me  has  been  most  sweet,  and  his 
countenance  I  have  more  desired  than  they  that  have  most 
desired  the  light  of  the  sun.  His  Word  I  did  use  to  gather 
for  my  food,  and  for  antidotes  against  my  faintings.  He  has 
held  me,  and  I  have  kept  me  from  mine  iniquities;  yea,  my 
steps  hath  he  strengthened  in  his  way. 

Now,  while  he  was  thus  in  discourse,  his  countenance 
changed,  his  strong  man  bowed  under  him;  and  after  he  had 
said,  Take  me,  for  I  come  unto  thee,  he  ceased  to  be  seen  of 
them. 

But  glorious  it  was,  to  see  how  the  open  region  was  filled 
with  horses  and  chariots,  with  trumpeters  and  pipers,  with 
singers  and  players  on  stringed  instruments,  to  welcome  the 
pilgrims  as  they  went  up,  and  followed  one  another  in  at  the 
beautiful  gate  of  the  city. 

As  for  Christian's  children,  the  four  boys  that  Christiana 
brought  with  her,  with  their  wives  and  children,  I  did  not 
stay  where  I  was  till  they  were  gone  over.  Also,  since  I  came 
away,  I  heard  one  say  that  they  were  yet  alive,  and  so  would 


328  THE  PILGRIM'S  PROGRESS 

be  for  the  increase  of  the  Church  in  that  place  where  they 
were  for  a  time. 

Shall  it  be  my  lot  to  go  that  way  again,  I  may  give  those 
that  desire  it  an  account  of  what  I  here  am  silent  about. 
Meanwhile  I  bid  my  reader  Adieu. 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below,  or 

on  the  date  to  which  renewed. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


REC'D  LD 

AUG15'64-10AM 

^^r^'O 

RE<->  v 

irc-\ft  (\,W 

5JAN'65DT         ' 

MH  ~<6G 

»mr~»^ 

REC'D  LD 

UOM*  D&Pt* 

FEB1    '65-4.PM 

IK&    '6"  VI 

SS£'D  LD 

APR21'65-1P« 

1 

•••EI  1  c\'  'cn  MI 

JUNIO  b'jM 

t-k  />  T\O  \  1  1  n'  Ai?k 

-CuoJ^^  Oy 
^  A       iQft^^i  2 

f)£C  4     \9o°°  ' 

i 

LD  21A-60m-4,'64 
(E4555slO)476B 


General  Library 

University  of  California 

Berkeley 


01534 


